Rating - PG-13
Ownership - Joss (lucky bastard) Whedon owns the characters from BtVs - not me.
Distribution - like, take, have, ask first
Feedback - much appreciated ... flames will be met with hysterical laughter followed shortly by an atom bomb. Be warned.
He sat on their bed, her head in his lap. She was asleep. Smiling fondly, he brushed the lone strand of hair from her face and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He loved her. Love, pure and simple. He could never tell her, it would show his weaknesses and leave her vulnerable to attack by those who would slaughter him. He wanted her to tell her. He wondered if she already knew. She must have the slightest hint. All these years, he had protected and guided her. He was her guardian, she was his haven. She sighed deeply and stirred. She would be waking soon. He didn't want her to. He wanted her to stay like this, to stay forever in his arms. His brow furrowing into a frown of concern, he tilted her head so she faced him. He gently ran his hands over the scars and winced out of sympathy pains as she whimpered softly in her sleep when his fingertips reached the ghastly sores on her neck. A single tear ran its course down his face as he recalled the night before. He glanced down at his wrist - the wound looked almost fresh, he needed blood to heal it. He had surrendered all his blood to her last night. She had needed it, she could hardly move and he needed to get her away.
She stirred again and slowly opened her eyes. Her face remained motionless as she tried to focus on his, she smiled with recognition then snarled at him, violently pushing him away from her. He tumbled off the bed and she looked down at him, vampiric features claiming her face as she spoke,
"You hurt me."
"I'm sorry, pet. I - I had to. You were going to--"
"You hurt me."
She was glaring at him, but her voice was no more than a whimper. He lowered his head in shame and the tears streamed as she knelt up on the bed, examining her arms and legs and running her fingers over her face as he had done before. He hadn't wanted to do that to her. Not in a million years would he do that to her willingly. He had to. It was either them or get sucked into eternal damnation. He very happily sacrificed Angelus, and was darn proud of himself when he watched the bloody bastard go up in flames - but he hadn't wanted to hurt his baby. He remembered the Ripper using a discarded fire-extinguisher to dowse the minors with holy water. He remembered watching with satisfaction as the englishman turned on Angelus and added to the pain of the flames by soaking him with the sacred liquid ... then he remembered how Drusilla had tried to rescue her Sire and leapt in way. The water singed her beautifully silken skin as it soaked through her dress and it bit at her flesh as she tried to wipe it off. She had only succeeded in making it worse. Her screams echoed throughout is mind then faded as they were replaced by her soft sobs. He slowly looked up, her face was buried in her hands and every sob wracked her fragile body. Standing, he left her alone for a few moments and ran her a hot bath. He remembered from the earlier days when they roamed Europe with Angelus that she loved to soak in a hot bath. It took away her worries and for a while she could completely forget her emotional traumas and pretend that she was still a normal girl. No visions and no fangs. He would never forget the expression on her face when she had to get out. It was as if she had been woken from a beautiful dream - only to be greeted by her worst nightmare.
At the familiar sounds of the taps being turned off, Drusilla looked past her Childe and straight at the bath. It was steaming, just how she had always loved it. He closed the door behind her and sat back on the bed as he heard the soft sound of her dress hitting the floor and the slight splash as she climbed in.
He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew was Dru's face looking down on him. Her human face. The face of the girl she once was. The girl she used to be before Angelus decided to replace the priest during confession. She was smiling at him. He didn't dare smile back. Drusilla was at full strength, he'd given her all his blood the night before so she would heal faster. He, on the other hand, was not. He was empty, and he didn't need reminding that she could tear him limb from limb while he was in this state. Then he realised she was only wearing a towel - and not a very big one at that. He stood up quickly and began to lead her back to the bathroom,
"Dru, love, stay in there while I go find you some clothes."
She obeyed and stood behind the closed bathroom door while he rummaged through the drawers. Most of it was his, there were a couple of Harm's old tops that she'd forgotten ... ah, one of Dru's dresses. He smiled fondly as he held it up to his face. It still smelled of her perfume. Checking it for any rips or tears, he made his way back to the bathroom door and opening it a bit, handed her the dress and waited.
He sat with his back to the bathroom door reading the newspaper.
"William."
Spike's head snapped up. No-one had ever called him that for a long time. Except Drusilla. And Buffy when she was trying to annoy him.
"William."
Her voice was teasing, as if they had been playing hide-and-seek and he still hadn't found her.
"Naughty William. Mummy's diappointed."
Spike turned around in his chair so he faced her,
"Feeling better, love?"
She nodded slowly, almost dream-like. He smiled,
"Like your baths don't you, Pet?"
Smiling, Dru sat on the bed motioned for her Childe to come sit beside her. He did so, knowing she hadn't forgiven him yet, but she still needed protection. She would always need protection and he'd be damned if anyone else would do the protecting. Closing her eyes, she placed her head on his shoulder and allowed him to drape his arm around her shoulders. She began to hum ... the song her mother had sung to her as a child ... something about a lamb and a blackberry patch. Pulling his moblie from his back pocket, Spike called Lucius to bring them dinner and when the minor attempted to complain, he hung up.
After feeding and watching Dru feed, the peroxide vampire felt better. He gazed at her, captivated as the scars began to fade and she cooed over her last victim, the boy's tears and cries of fear leaving her completely uneffected. The human squirmed under her gaze,
"What do you want?!"
Stupid question, Spike thought, What does any vampire want with a tasty meal like him?
Dru just tapped her nose with her forefinger and whispered,
"Don't be nosey."
Chuckling Spike watched his Sire work. She had already drunk her fill, now she wanted to play. She loved to frighten humans, she said the air sang to her when humans feared her. For a second, she almost lost herself and her face morphed, her forehead becoming a series of pronounced ridges. The human screamed and she quickly reverted back to her human form, her nose scrunching as she giggled with delight and the boy continued to scream.
"Oh put him out of his misery, ducks."
Turning to her Childe she shrugged, a delighted smile playing across her lips,
"Not hungry. Do it for me, love."
"Pet, you know I like to play with them first."
She stood up and stepped back, making way for Spike,
"Play. I want to see."
Seeing the way her eyes sparkled, the blonde vampire stood and made his way towards his intended prey. The boy struggled, trying to push backwards through the concrete wall. Spike opened the door and looked outside. All the minors had left for their hunt. He opened the door wide and took Dru's hand. He looked down at the human,
"Run."
There was a desperate scramble as the teenager struggled to get to the door. Looking through the door again, Spike waited till the lad was at least two thirds down the corridor. Then he squeezed his Sire's hand and grinned as she squeezed back. She had forgiven him.
"Coming, baby?"
She nodded and he sauntered down the hall, Drusilla close behind him. Crossing from the border of their underground home to the open air of the cemetery, Spike focused on his target and kept a steady pace, slowly catching up with the boy as he stumbled and staggered towards what he hoped was safety - if he lived to get there. Maintaining his pace, Spike took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, taking a long drag, then cocking his head and blowing out the smoke, looking back momentarily to check on Drusilla. She was right behind him. A wicked smile spreading across his face, he inhaled deeply. His dinner was out of sight. Hiding behind the mausoleum. Fangs glistening, he broke into a run, leapt onto the roof of the mausoleum and off the other side, landing on the kid as he tried to run again. The vampire grinned and held the boy fast while he waited for Dru to catch up.
She wandered around the corner and smiled as she watched her Childe drain the human completely.
Spike stood and raised his eyebrows and his Sire approached him. She had that look in her eye. He paused as she pulled his head towards hers and licked the blood dripping down his chin. He grinned.
Linking arms with him, she leant her head on his shoulder, and rubbed his muscular arm with her free hand. She whispered,
"Mummy loves you William."
Spike smiled contentedly, a great weight lifted off his chest,
"William loves you too, pet."
He unlinked his arm and wrapped round her shoulders, holding her close as he escorted her safely home, away from the dangers of the approaching sunrise.
