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buffyfic-digest          Friday, May 1 1998          Volume 02 : Number 154



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: "The Inevitable" (1/1) by Hannah R.H.
       Re: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Rachel's critique of "Bitten"
       BUFFYFIC: Quoting
       BUFFYFIC: (BUFFYFIC)  Cloaked in Darkness 1/?
       BUFFYFIC: "Dark Thoughts" (1/1)

See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Thu, 30 Apr 1998 21:19:12 EDT
From: Hannah1971 <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Inevitable" (1/1) by Hannah R.H.

Summary: Willow realizes too late that she is Angel's next target.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy do. I will not
profit from their use.
Warning: Implied character death.
Rating: PG
Notes: This one's dedicated to all the writers out there who see a spark
between Angel and Willow, expecially Jessica DuBois and Melinda Dawney. For
those of you that read "The Inevitable" on BBETA a few days ago, the ending
has changed--I realized I was copping out. If you read both versions, let me
know what you think. And regarding critiques and/or criticism, I can be thin-
skinned, but have at me! It can only help me get better ... ;-)

***
The Inevitable
by Hannah R.H.
Copyright 1998

It was said with a long, shuddering breath that would have
broken the heart of anyone who heard it.

"Angel."

The only one who heard it had no heart to break, however,
and so Willow was left abandoned in the playground,
watched only by a demon that was once a friend. The fear
knifed through her with sharp pains, making her breaths
labored.

"Hey, Willow," Angel said with cold informality as he stepped
out from behind the jungle gym. "Out kind of late, aren't
you?"

Her eyes jumped back down the path she had walked. Just
far enough. No one to hear. No one to save her.

The milk she carried in the plastic 7-Eleven bag slipped from
her grasp and dropped to the hard ground. White flowed
from the seams and drenched the trampled grass, spreading
and soaking into the dirt. She saw Angel smile, and her fear
turned warm and liquid, diffuse, through her limbs.

"I guess it is ... late," she said quietly. The sun had gone
down only half an hour before ... but half an hour was long
enough. Angel looked rested, as if he had just risen. "How
did you find me?"

"I've been watching you, Willow ... just you," he answered.
"Sundown to sunrise. Waiting for the moment that I knew
would come."

"Watching me," she echoed. Willow realized immediately
what had killed her--the belief that the demon couldn't be
everywhere at once. One trip to the corner store, right after
sundown, would be anonymous enough to offer her
protection. And now, for the price of a carton of milk, she
had given herself to Death.

A brief wave of nausea washed over her. She closed her
eyes, breathing deeply, and when she opened them again,
he was standing in front of her, inches away. She hadn't
heard him move, but then, she never did. She looked up into
his face, still impossibly handsome and deceptively kind.

He smiled. "It's been so pleasurable, watching you. Seeing
you laughing, dancing ... living. You were the one I wanted,
right from the start, before that Calendar witch. You knew
that, didn't you?" His eyes were bright and sharp. Willow
didn't know how to answer him, but then he continued, "I just
killed her because I had to, not because I really wanted it.
You were the one I wanted first. You're the one I've been
hungering for."

She blinked, gauging her reaction to his words. She skipped
past the self-recrimination for her stupidity, past the sadness
for a wasted life, past the anger that Buffy wouldn't be there
to save her. Willow felt the fear draining from her, like the
milk soaking into the trampled ground, to be replaced by
something numb and soulless. She nodded, then, without
emotion.

"Buffy thought it would be Xander," she responded, not an
accusation but a statement of fact. Her flesh was suddenly
cold, and she shivered. "But I knew."

"Yes, it was inevitable." Angel nodded, approving, then
shook his head at her earlier statement. "Xander!" he
scoffed. "What a waste. I'll kill him like I killed the gypsy,
without a thought, like stepping on something crawling and
slithering on the ground. He thinks I hold real animosity
toward him, but Willow, he's not even worthy of that." He
looked at her then, and his dark eyes pierced through,
seeking her soul. "You're different, though--more than
worthy."

Willow's soul, or whatever it was that made her different
from Angel, had retreated within her, and she heard her
voice from someplace outside, away. "Angel--why me?" She
wanted to hear him say it.

"Willow," he chatised mildly. "That question is beneath you.
You know why."

Her heart thudded slowly in her chest, and she swallowed.
He knew.

Inevitable.

"I never wanted Buffy to know," she said dully, pressing
down the feelings as they threatened to emerge.

His voice was cold comfort. "She didn't. What was there to
know? You loved Xander and that werewolf. I loved her." He
spat it like a curse. "She never saw what I did--those
glorious moments when your wasteful insecurity would drop
away, when you'd realize those boys were beneath you, and
you'd watch me. I may have been burdened with that soul,
but the demon in me would feel you watching." He chuckled.
"You should have been born a gypsy yourself. You could
have burned me with those eyes. You're a flame, Willow--
you draw me to you."

He reached out to stroke her hair, and she shuddered under
his cold fingers.

"Buffy will die soon, after I've killed everyone she cared
about. But I will end this as I begin it, by drinking the blood of
someone who loves me."

She didn't know if he was taunting her, and she realized it
didn't matter anymore. Only one thing did. "I don't want to be
a vampire, Angel. Please."

"Shhh ... You won't be," he assured her. "Just a little pain,
my beautiful girl, and then it's over." His hand passed from
her hair, brushing her cheek before it dropped to her
shoulder. He rubbed his thumb over the pulse in her neck.
"Come sit with me, over here, on this bench. Let me touch
you."


She let him lead her to the bench, near the swings that she
and Xander had used as children, and he sat close to her,
closer even than she would have let Xander or Oz sit.
Angel's hands passed over her face, smoothed her hair,
stroked the milky white skin inside her arms. She felt the
void that the fear had left, and the calm inevitability of the
end.

"You burn, Willow."

He leaned toward her, his face already changing, and she
opened her arms to embrace Death.

THE END

(Yep, no Sarah McLachlan lyrics this time. <sigh> But if you liked it anyway,
check out my Web site at http://members.aol.com/hannah1971.)

------------------------------

Date: Thu, 30 Apr 1998 21:36:53 EDT
From: KylenRevik <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Rachel's critique of "Bitten"

In a message dated 98-04-30 21:18:48 EDT, [e-mail] writes:

>I know this so well! There've been times when I've
>worked for *days* on a story trying to get it right
>and, I admit, trying to be just a little impressive.
>But the ones that other people have said are the
>absolute best are the ones that I've put the least work
>into. Like the time I rushed off a Christmas story for
>an APA I was in. I barely had the time to check it, yet
>it's one of the stories they remember me for and not
>the ones I literally sweat blood trying to improve. I
>guess it all depends on how well it flows; if it does
>it's good, if it don't then sometimes it just ain't
>gonna. Though don't anyone let that put you off.
>There's been times when I've worked hard on a story and
>it's come good too.

Oh, too true. I worked for a week getting out the first draft of a 40 page
fic, which I finished while home sick yesterday, and I'm still working on it
just because I *know* the last few chapters need serious HELP. BUT, in the
space of three hours tonight after watching the ep where Spike and Dru get
that organ dumped on top of them (title, please, anybody?), I wrote this
lovely little vignette that I already know won't take hardly any editing at
all once I spellcheck it and like, actually type it in. <g>

En-knee-weigh. <g>

R

------------------------------

Date: Thu, 30 Apr 1998 21:44:06 -0400
From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Quoting

I can't remember if we had it in the list rules when you DISCUSS stories,
but I think it might be a good idea to limit quotes here as well.  Four
lines or less, please.

If you've got questions, email me.

Thanks,
- --sah

sah * [e-mail] * [e-mail]
NatPack * Jungle Patrol * Bishop * Bossy the Lost Dwarf * BTVS Listowner
"I feel nauseous.  What is this world coming to, that a perfectly nice,
reasonably sane atheist who forwards me slash and thrives on Xena subtext,
can suddenly start watching 7th Heaven and planning FIC, for Elvis' sake?"
                                                    --jk

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 01 May 1998 06:42:13 PDT
From: "Aurelia Destiny" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: (BUFFYFIC)  Cloaked in Darkness 1/?

Okay, I've FINALLY got it all worked out, so here it!  Enjoy!

Love,
Aurelia
*********************************************************************

TITLE: Cloaked In Darkness
AUTHOR: Princess Destiny ([e-mail])
SUMMARY: Things are not exactly what they seem when Giles finds an
ancient diary, with news of the death of the Slayer.  A new girl comes
to Sunnydale and things start to go crazy, Angel is jealous because
Buffy has a boyfriend and The Master gets a nasty surprise...
It is naturally a Buffy/Angel Romance story, cause I'm a hopeless
romantic!  Although it starts off a bit rocky, but I assure you they
will end up together in this one!
RATING: PG.
TIME PERIOD: Hmm, well since we have only seen up till 'Prophesy Girl'
here in AustraliaBut I HAVE read the scripts for the rest of
them...Okay, say just after the 'Angel' episode and we'll leave it at
that!
THANK-YOUS:
FEEDBACK: PLEASE!  I love to hear from people!
DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first, I'll say yes anyway, but I want to know
where it is going.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Angel and the others are the property of Joss Whedon.
Gabriella and any others I add later on are Mine, Mine, Mine!  This is
my first try at a Buffy fic so don't be too harsh, comments and
suggestions or even praise for my lovely story are very welcome!


             ************************
            CLOAKED IN DARKNESS
             ************************


              ***PART 1:  JEALOUSY***


        Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm


The Street lights went by in a blur, reflecting off of the glass windows
as the bus crawled at a respectable speed through the town.  Inside the
bus was black, only a few snores and people muttering in their sleep,
revealed that anyone was within except for the silent driver.  His eyes
swept the road for the stop sign and he spotted it a few meters from the
end of the next street.  He sighed and looked into the rear-view mirror
at the girl sitting in the first row to the right.  If he turned his
head slightly he could look at her pale features from the corner of his
eye.

She was beautiful and his mind had been on nothing but her since the bus
had started its trip from New York.  She had stepped up and given him a
sweet smile before taking her seat, watching all the other passengers as
they, too, entered the bus.  Her long dark hair was gorgeous, glossy and
silken and just waiting for someone to run their hands through it.  And
her eyes, like emeralds, were dark green with dark lashes surrounding
them.  Her skin was white, like fine porcelain and her lips a natural
red.  He doubted she had ever needed to use makeup in her life.

Her clothes were expensive, he could see at a glance, having seen many
people getting onto his bus over the years.  It occurred to him briefly
to wonder why a lovely young girl, with obviously expensive taste, would
be catching a bus to her destination when she could obviously afford to
catch a plane...or a limo.  He chuckled humorously, risking a slight
glance over his shoulder at her sleeping face, so peaceful against the
stained and worn red of the bus seat.

The stop sign came closer and he slowed the bus.  After a quick look at
all the other sleeping people he got out of his seat and walked slowly
towards her. He had intended to wake her gently, perhaps with soft
endearment, his wife would never know...but when he had taken but one
step towards her, her eyes flashed open, wide awake and without the
slightest trace of sleep in their green depths.

He paused, embarrassed, and saw a wariness in her eyes as she stared at
him for a moment.  Then her eyes softened and she smiled that sweet
curving of the lips that he had not been able to forget since she
entered his vehicle.

"WeÆve arrived, I didnÆt want to startle you, or wake the others."  He
whispered almost nervously, wondering if those eyes had seen the flush
enter his cheeks and the look of guilt in his eyes.  A spark of laughter
entered her face. She got fluidly to her feet and shrugged her shoulders
lightly, trying to get the sleepiness out of her limbs.

"Thank you, I enjoyed the ride."  she said.  A shiver went down his
spine at the sound of her voice, he felt as if he would melt into a
puddle as she stepped past him and descended the steps to the sidewalk.
He saw her look around curiously, and then she turned slightly to looked
back at him as he slid into the driverÆs seat again.

"Will you be all right?  ItÆs a dangerous place here, IÆve heard
stories..."  he hesitated as she frowned slightly, stepping closer to
the bus to peer in at him.  A slender hand reached up to grasp the side
of the door and he felt a sudden urge to take back his words and smooth
the frown from her delicate face.

"What stories?"  she asked.  He repressed the shudder that went through
his body at the musical sound of her voice and tried to control his
wandering mind enough to answer her question.

"Ah...not much, just rumors you understand.  They say this is the
æMurder CapitalÆ, people end up dead, especially the tourists"  he told
her in a low conspiratorial voice as someone stirred in the bus and a
child started to whine about food.  The girl released the door and
severed her last link to the bus driver and his life.  He felt it almost
physically, she was so beautiful and he wanted to keep her there longer
but knew he had a deadline to deliver all his passengers to their
destinations.

"I can take care of myself, I lived in New York remember?"  she said
softly, a laugh in her tone.  He smiled foolishly at her as he started
the bus again.  She stepped back so as not to get in the way of the bus
and he stared at her as if seeing a vision, feeling that something was
not right.  The moon shone down giving her skin an unearthly glow and
her long dark hair blew lightly around her slender frame like a cloak.

She raised her arms and hugged herself lightly, a farewell smile on her
face and he closed the door on her, pulling away.  She looked after the
bus as it went slowly down the street and stopped at a light, then the
light changed and the bus continued on faster until it was out of sight.
She sighed a little, almost a whisper of breath and then looked around
her, starting to walk the way the bus had gone.

The breeze was cool and she wondered if she should have worn more
appropriate clothes, her designer grey skirt just reached her kneeÆs and
her top was light blue silk.  The soft grey leather half-boots she wore
did little to cover her legs and only her long hair kept her top half
warm as it swirled around her in the wind.  The night was lonely, but
the moon was absolutely beautiful and she could not help but stare
longingly at it as she walked along.  She was so intent on the sky that
when a bunch of teenagers ran past her, she was almost knocked over.

"What a babe!"  one guy said as he glanced over his shoulder to see who
they had barreled past, the other guys looked back but then they grabbed
the first guy and they continued on.

"Yeah, she is!  But weÆve gotta get to the æBronzeÆ before the band
starts!"  their voices faded away as they ran and soon so did their hard
footsteps.  She sighed and ran a hand unconsciously through her hair,
then smoothed her skirt down.  She had to find a hotel or something and
get some sleep before the sun came up.

***************************************

The girl screamed again and Buffy gritted her teeth, silently willing
the girl to shut up.  Her eyes clashed with the vampireÆs yellow oneÆs
in a deadly struggle as each looked for an opening to attack.  It would
have helped, of course, if the vampire and Buffy werenÆt in a sort of
stalemate, each had a hand about the otherÆs throat.  She was seriously
pissed off at the male vampire for ruining her night and her glaring
green eyes told him so.

Her grip tightened and his did simultaneously, Buffy started to see
stars and tried to get her other hand free from his.  The long claws
merely dug into her flesh harder and she gasped involuntarily.  She
kicked at him and he grunted with pain as it connected with his ribs.
He snarled and bared his fangs as a wicked smile covered his face and he
lifted her slightly from the ground.  Buffy choked and saw the girl
crawling rapidly away, only to run into the legs of another vampire, who
was amused to see the slayer in such a weakened position and had
forfeited dinner to watch the entertainment.

"Going somewhere my Dear?"  the second vampire purred. Grabbing the girl
by the hair and holding her up by it.  She screamed in pain and
struggled futilely, eventually fainting.

"I...really...wish..."  Buffy panted as she kicked again at the vampire
holding her up.  Her neck muscles threatened to give way and she bit her
lips as darkness entered the edges of her vision.

"...they would LEARN..."  She gave an especially hard kick to his solar
plexus and the vampire was the one to gasp with pain this time, his grip
loosening enough for Buffy to struggle free.  She fell back to the
ground and her eyes narrowed dangerously as she rubbed at the skin of
her bruised neck.  Buffy leapt to her feet and grabbed the stake she had
dropped when he grabbed her.  She roundhouse kicked his face and he spun
backwards.

"...Not to..." Another kick to his face and a few rapid punches, then
she thrust the stake through his heart.  He turned to dust in seconds
and she spun at the ready.  The second vampire looked a lot less amused
as she raised the stake and leapt at him.  He flew back and she staked
him before he could get back on his feet.  Buffy returned the stake to
the back of her mini-skirt and leaned down to check the unconscious
girl.

"...piss a Slayer off, especially when she has a hot date!"  Buffy
finished triumphantly.  The girl started to come around and Buffy helped
her to her feet, explaining that they had been attacked by gang members.
She seemed to accept it and took off without a word, too terrified to
even thank Buffy for apparently ærunning offÆ the ægang membersÆ.

"Geez, so much for gratitude, but thatÆs two less blood suckers."  Buffy
muttered as she straightened her dress and walked back out of the alley
she had been passing before she heard the girlÆs scream.

"YouÆd think girls these days would have more sense than to go into a
dark alley with a strange guy!"  Buffy threw up her hands in disgust and
continued on to the æBronzeÆ and her date with Dwayne.  She didnÆt
usually go for the football type, but he was nice and she was hoping to
make Angel jealous, if nothing else.  It was a month since she last
talked to him.  Though she constantly felt his eyes on her wherever she
went, he never appeared and she had given up trying to speak to him.

It just wasnÆt meant to be, a vampire and a Slayer and he WAS 241 years
old.  Way to old for her, she convinced herself, she was only 16 after
all.  Dwayne was waiting upstairs and Buffy was pleasantly surprised to
see a warmth enter his eyes when he saw her.  He got to his feet and
gave her a hug, not even mentioning the fact she was 20 minutes late for
a date.

"What a guy"  she muttered dryly, not so sure if she should take his
disinterest in her lateness as a compliment.

"Well, well, so Buffy finally decided to turn up.  Are you sure you want
someone as...absent-minded as her as a girlfriend Dwayne?  And that
hair, you could have at least done your hair Buffy."  CordeliaÆs
sarcastic voice clearly heard even over the loud music and BuffyÆs hands
flew to her hair in defense, finding that most of it had fallen from her
ponytail in the struggle with the vampire.

"You fight the un-dead each night and see how YOUR hair looks."  Buffy
muttered darkly under her breath, glaring as she rapidly fixed her hair
and Cordelia watched with a snobby expression on her face.  Dwayne but
an arm around BuffyÆs shoulders and smiled down at her softly, touching
a blonde curl as it lay against her check.

"I love your hair, messy or not."  Dwayne told her and she smiled back,
her eyes sparkling as he leaned in to give her a kiss.  Buffy heard
Cordelia snort un-lady-like, but they both ignored her.  She leaned back
and her eyes caught a slight movement in the corner of the room.

"The world is coming to an end!  Buffy is hanging with the same group as
I am!"  Cordelia glared accusingly upward for a moment as if waiting for
some hint that it was all just a big mistake.  Buffy didnÆt hear her and
Cordelia left, unnoticed, a second later, muttering about losers.

A shiver went through Buffy and she knew only one guy could get that
reaction out of her without her even seeing him.  Angel.  And even from
the other side of the room she could feel his anger.  He was jealous and
a smile touched her lips before she could stop it.

He was watching her but even her sharp eyes could only pick up the
faintest outline of his form as he stood in the shadows.  Buffy lifted
her chin and deliberately turned her back on him.  She looked at her
date instead and contemplated his cute features.  He was as light as
Angel was dark, short hair as blonde as BuffyÆs own and light blue eyes.
He was good-looking, but not as good-looking as Angel, Buffy thought
dreamily.

She shook her head abruptly and focused on Dwayne as he asked her if she
wanted a drink.   She nodded and he got up from the table.  Her eyes
followed him and she looked at his muscled body absently, more muscle
than she usually liked, but that was football players for you.  It made
her wonder if she was really serious about dating.  She took her
feelings out and examined them, ignoring the music and conversation of
all DwayneÆs friends as they talked and laughed around her.

Her feeling for Dwayne were, friendship only, as much as she wanted to
feel more, there was only one person who could make her heart race.
Buffy looked over her shoulder and towards the shadows but her senses
told her that Angel was gone.  She turned back with a sigh and gasped as
she saw Angel sitting across the table from her.  Staring with burning
eyes....

______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 1 May 1998 14:28:52 EDT
From: KylenRevik <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Dark Thoughts" (1/1)

This short little thing takes place just after "What's My Line, part 2"
(Kendra ep), which I just saw last night thanks to my friend lending me some
tapes. I haven't seen/heard what goes on just after that, though, as far as
anything after Dru walking him out. So if this is in direct contrast (and I
have done that once or twice, by mistake) and anyone cares to let me know, I'd
appreciate it. OTOH, if this would mesh in just fine, then let me know that
too and I'll do the happy dance around my room. :)

So--

Spoilers: Not really. Up to "What's My Line, Part 2", I guess.
Comments: Yea! And intensive ones, honest ones, etc. COnstructive criticism is
ALWAYS welcome!
Notes: Takes place back @ Spike and Dru's place after the end of the ep. A
little profanity. Dru being _Dru_. ::rolls her eyes::

On with the show!

~

                         "Dark Thoughts"
                         By Rachel Brody

     "Kitten," Spike moaned softly.
     Dru smiled a little, touching her protector's cheek lightly.
"Yes, love?" she asked. She marvled at how much stronger her voice
was, how she could think, see slightly clearer. Of course, it was
all still a tremendous muddle, but she felt so much better-- so
much _clearer_. Everything was singing in her head.
     If only, she sighed inwardly, the same were true of her Spike.
She stroked his cheek lightly, leaning in and examining the scarred
flesh that she'd first noticed when she brought him back here after
the Slayer knocked that big load've wood down on the two of them.
Nasty, wretched Slayer. Poor Spike, she thought. He was looking at
her now with that sad, hurting look've his. "Does it 'urt much?"
she breathed.
     Spike's jaw clenched tightly, and Drusilla bit her lip. "Yea,"
he got out, and Dru could tell the poor sweet thing was hurting
something awful.
     "Wish I could 'elp," she whispered. "But everythin's singin',
Spike, the 'ole _world_, an' I can..." She shook her head slowly,
her voice dropping to a lower volume as she leaned closer,
confiding in him. "I can barely 'ear meself thinkin'," she said,
her voice betraying her tickled humor.
     That must have been the right thing to do, though, because
Spike smiled a little, "S'awright, then," he said.
     "Are you sure?" she asked. She hoped he wasn't lying to her,
because sometimes he did that to try and protect her from things
she shoudln't be thinking about her, he loved her that much, he
did.
     He nodded and smiled weakly in response, and Dru met his smile
with a grin of her own. As she moved in to plant a kiss on his
lips, though, she heard a small voice from the other side of the
room.
     *"Mummy,"* the voice came, and Dru sighed in exasperation when
she heard Miss Emily's plaintive cry. *"I'm 'ungry, Mum."*
     Dru turned back to face the dolls. "Not _now_, lovey," she
chided gently, "stop both'rin' your Mum or she'll 'ave to be cruel
to you, an' you know 'ow much that 'urts 'er, don't you." She
smiled at Spike as his eyelids fluttered slightly. "Shh," she said.
     "What?" he asked, wincing a little.
     "Nuthing," she said. "Miss Em'ly's just bein' a bit spoiled,
is all." Then she thought a moment. She couldn't just _leave_ the
poor thing to starve, could she? And Spike would probably like
something to eat, as well. "Mummy's goin' to go an' get us all a
nice meal," she told him. "For the dollies, an' for you, too."
     "Dru," Spike breathed, and Dru had the feeling that if she
stayed much longer, he might not let her go out.
     "I'll be back rather shortly," she told him, then she pressed
a finger against his lips to silence the protest she was reasonably
certain would come. When she felt him sigh, she nodded and turned
to take her coat from its hook by the door, leaving quickly.
     She knew Spike always told her she didn't need to wear the
jacket, but she'd taken it from a beautiful woman in Paris on the
way out of Prague, and she hated to part with it just yet. It was
so beautiful. Soft, and warm, and she could curl up in it and feel
all safe and nothing could hurt her.
     She frowned as she reached the entrance to the warehouse,
peeking outside just a bit. It was dark out, and as her eyes rose
upward, she let a smile push the frown out of the way.
     She could see the stars, now. And they were...so beautiful.
                                *
     "Dru," Spike whispered, hearing her skip away, wishing there
were some way he could go after her. Damn it all, if only the
Slayer hadn't shoved him into that organ, if he could just _move_
without pain shooting through him like he was some sort've bloody
cripple...he was the _Vampire Master_ of the _Hellmouth_, damn it
all, he wasn't supposed to be sitting here helpless like some sorta
mewing kitten.
     He sighed. But that bitch had, and he was, and now his Dru was
going out on er own to devil-only-knew-where, doing who knew what,
treating him like he hadn't been taking care of her most nearly
completely since she'd taken him to Angelus to be _made_.
     Angelus, that bastard. Spike glowered, best he could, ignoring
for a moment the pain from the weight of the organ falling upon
him. "At little sonuvabitch," he muttered. "Thinkin' 'e could just
go and turn fuckin' human on them, thinking he could go out and get
himself _involved_ with a damn _Slayer_."
     He sighed, relaxing slightly as the rememberance faded in
response to his rapidly increasing pain, as well as the ever-
increasing worry he was feeling over Dru. Yea, she was healthy now,
but that wouldn't do her any damn good if she went and forgot that
at the end of the night the sun peeked over the horizen and if she
wasn't in the dark then it just wouldn't _matter_ that she'd been
restored to her full health, because she'd be blooming _dead_, and
now wouldn't _that_ just make a lovely ending to her altogether
unproductive life.
     Spike cast a desperate look toward the chair across the room,
wondering if there were a possibility that he could pull himself
off this bed and somehow get himself over there. At least if he did
that, he could sit _up_ 'stead of lying here in agony and not being
able to see a bloody thing.
     Clenching his jaw, Spike cast an arm out to latch it onto the
bedpost, and he wrapped his fingers around it as tightly as he
could. He was sure his knuckles were turning white, but he couldn't
see to tell because his eyes were squeezing shut against the pain
that was shooting all through him.
     *Damn Slayer _bitch_,* he thought angrily. She'd gone and
broken his spine in two-- or maybe more-- and it was gonna take
damn near forever for it to heal. Damn long time, and he'd need to
do a damn lot of feeding if he wanted it to go at any kind've
reasonable rate.
     He was shaking his head now, ignoring how much it hurt. He'd
just use the pain to fuel his taste for revenge against the Slayer
and her damn lap dog of a spineless coward of a vampire.
     That bitch'd pay, he vowed silently. There was no doubt of
that in Spike's mind. She was fucking dead, the moment he got his
hands on her. Damn the perky little thing straight to hell.
     He was seeing red now, his fear for Dru's safety almost
forgotten. Almost, until he realized that fact, at which point all
his concerns came rushing out've nowhere. Now he was sitting on the
edge've the bed, his legs dangling uselessly over it, and he was
mostly supported by his hands, which were still gripping the posts
of Dru's canopy bed.
     With a sigh, Spike let himself go, falling back  into the
matress and blankets with a sharp, pained _thud_. He grimaced as he
hit, but refrained from crying out in case anybody mighta been near
enough to hear. He wasn't about to go and make himself damned
vulnerable to every frigging idiot around who might think killing
him was a good way to earn a name for himself.
     Folding his hands over his chest, Spike wondered if the
Slayer'd find herself in this much pain after he got his hands on
her. If he took  her in his hands and just about snapped her in
two. His lips curled back in a predatory smile. He'd make her pay,
that Slayer, just as soon as he could have time to heal.
     That, and soon as Dru came home.
     Spike glanced at his clock. He could give her about three more
hours, he supposed, to get back here. But if she wasn't back by
then, he'd have to call one of the peons pretending to be a vampire
to go out looking for her. He chuckled slightly.
     He'd pick a peon he didn't like too much, he decided. Just in
case Dru wasn't in the mood to come home.

THE END

~

Comments to [e-mail], please.

Rachel

------------------------------

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