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writers_muses Prompt 74
Feb. 27th, 2009 10:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_pretty_fireShe was a hard girl to track down, his Drusilla, but it wasn’t impossible.
After leaving Sunnydale for the second time, Spike made his way back to South America. She probably hadn’t stuck around after their spat, but a love struck vampire needed to start somewhere, didn’t he? Besides, a girl like Dru was bound to leave signs. He’d spent over a century in her company, and he knew damn well what to look for. He knew what she liked.
He knew what she liked.
In fact, he knew it so well that he’d vowed to tie her up and torture her until she loved him again. It was only a matter of time before he was back in the arms of his black goddess.
There were traces of her in Sao Paulo, and in Cartagena, and in Lima. People disappeared into the night and were returned the next day without their pretty dresses (and, in most cases, without their throats). Children lost their dolls to the shadows and the shadows soon stretched out to swallow up anyone else who got too close.
God, she was an artist, wasn’t she? It made his plans to torture and kill the Slayer look like child’s play.
It was a shame he hadn’t killed her, though. Returning with a mug of Buffy Summer’s blood would have been an impressive peace offering, as well as an impressive aphrodisiac.
They’d manage without it, though. They’d never exactly needed the latter and the Slayer’s death could wait for a few more moons. They could dance on her grave together, just like they’d always planned, with Sunnydale burning around them.
Bloody beautiful. It was almost poetic, really.
***
Although he didn’t find Drusilla herself in Rio de Janeiro, he did find a certain Chaos Demon downing shots in a bar by the beach.
“Hey, buddy!” he exclaimed, rising swiftly, “Look, your girl isn’t here. I haven’t seen her in weeks. There’s no need to come here looking for a fight …”
“I’m not looking for a fight,” said Spike with a grin, his face shifting. “Fights just seem to … find me.”
He didn’t hurt the demon too much. Just a few punches and a scattering of broken bones. His heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t blame the bloke for being infatuated with Dru, could he? Spike was tracking across two continents in search of the girl! As long as the slimy git got the message and stayed away now, things would be just fine.
***
Buenos Aires next.
It was a nice place, actually. You could sit and sip cocktails while the world passed by, if you wanted to, or you could cut a bloody swathe through the darker underbelly.
Spike, feeling peckish, picked the latter. His girl would have done the same, search or no search, and the streets teemed with naïve tourists and quaint little shop girls. Luring them into the corner was as easy as luring a child into a toy store, and …
“Aren’t you going to share?”
“Bloody Hell!” Spike exclaimed, dropping the blonde trollop he’d selected with an unpleasant thump, “Dru?”
“You’ve been following me,” she said, petulantly, gliding forward out of the shadows. She looked as beautiful as ever, her face framed by her long black hair and her crimson dress making a soft swishing sound as it trailed across the pavement. “Bad manners, trying to catch a bird that doesn’t want to lose its feathers.”
“I’m not plannin’ on takin’ your feathers, love,” he said, quickly. Six months of searching for her and she had gone and found him. That was Dru all over, wasn’t it? Always finding new ways to surprise him.
“The moon told me you would,” she said, “You’d strip them all away, and use them to fill a mattress. I’d be so cold, without them.”
“Oh, you can’t listen to everythin’ she says. She’s always changing her face.”
“I can smell the Slayer on you. You went to see her.”
“To kill her, Dru! For you!”
“She isn’t dead,” Drusilla exclaimed, “I can still hear her out there. Laughing at me.”
“She’ll be dead soon, pet, I swear it,” said Spike emphatically, “I came back for you first! So we can kill her together.”
“Together?”
Despite the anger in her eyes, he could tell that Dru is intrigued by the idea.
“Always, love. We’re forever, you and me.”
She was silent for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t though. Time only felt like it was dragging on when she wasn’t there to share it with him. Spike felt better already, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
“Will you make me a necklace out of her spine?”
“Of course I will, love. A necklace out of her spine and earrings out her intestines.”
To his surprise, Drusilla laughed at that.
“Oh, my silly Spike. Intestines don’t make good earrings. They drip so. It’d spoil all my dresses.”
My. She’d said ‘my’ Spike! The male vampire was so exhilarated that he failed to notice Drusilla drawing closer, snapping a pair of cold metal handcuffs around his wrist.
“Err … Dru? I’m the one that’s supposed to torture you.”
“Mmmm?” She smirked at him, eyes like chips of agate as she pushed him down to the floor of the alley. “Such sweet ideas you have, my darling deadly boy. But Mummy wants to play.”
Spike grinned. He could live with that.
He just hoped that she had keys for the handcuffs.
Prompt: "I'll just torture her 'til she likes me again."
Word Count: 914
After leaving Sunnydale for the second time, Spike made his way back to South America. She probably hadn’t stuck around after their spat, but a love struck vampire needed to start somewhere, didn’t he? Besides, a girl like Dru was bound to leave signs. He’d spent over a century in her company, and he knew damn well what to look for. He knew what she liked.
He knew what she liked.
In fact, he knew it so well that he’d vowed to tie her up and torture her until she loved him again. It was only a matter of time before he was back in the arms of his black goddess.
There were traces of her in Sao Paulo, and in Cartagena, and in Lima. People disappeared into the night and were returned the next day without their pretty dresses (and, in most cases, without their throats). Children lost their dolls to the shadows and the shadows soon stretched out to swallow up anyone else who got too close.
God, she was an artist, wasn’t she? It made his plans to torture and kill the Slayer look like child’s play.
It was a shame he hadn’t killed her, though. Returning with a mug of Buffy Summer’s blood would have been an impressive peace offering, as well as an impressive aphrodisiac.
They’d manage without it, though. They’d never exactly needed the latter and the Slayer’s death could wait for a few more moons. They could dance on her grave together, just like they’d always planned, with Sunnydale burning around them.
Bloody beautiful. It was almost poetic, really.
***
Although he didn’t find Drusilla herself in Rio de Janeiro, he did find a certain Chaos Demon downing shots in a bar by the beach.
“Hey, buddy!” he exclaimed, rising swiftly, “Look, your girl isn’t here. I haven’t seen her in weeks. There’s no need to come here looking for a fight …”
“I’m not looking for a fight,” said Spike with a grin, his face shifting. “Fights just seem to … find me.”
He didn’t hurt the demon too much. Just a few punches and a scattering of broken bones. His heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t blame the bloke for being infatuated with Dru, could he? Spike was tracking across two continents in search of the girl! As long as the slimy git got the message and stayed away now, things would be just fine.
***
Buenos Aires next.
It was a nice place, actually. You could sit and sip cocktails while the world passed by, if you wanted to, or you could cut a bloody swathe through the darker underbelly.
Spike, feeling peckish, picked the latter. His girl would have done the same, search or no search, and the streets teemed with naïve tourists and quaint little shop girls. Luring them into the corner was as easy as luring a child into a toy store, and …
“Aren’t you going to share?”
“Bloody Hell!” Spike exclaimed, dropping the blonde trollop he’d selected with an unpleasant thump, “Dru?”
“You’ve been following me,” she said, petulantly, gliding forward out of the shadows. She looked as beautiful as ever, her face framed by her long black hair and her crimson dress making a soft swishing sound as it trailed across the pavement. “Bad manners, trying to catch a bird that doesn’t want to lose its feathers.”
“I’m not plannin’ on takin’ your feathers, love,” he said, quickly. Six months of searching for her and she had gone and found him. That was Dru all over, wasn’t it? Always finding new ways to surprise him.
“The moon told me you would,” she said, “You’d strip them all away, and use them to fill a mattress. I’d be so cold, without them.”
“Oh, you can’t listen to everythin’ she says. She’s always changing her face.”
“I can smell the Slayer on you. You went to see her.”
“To kill her, Dru! For you!”
“She isn’t dead,” Drusilla exclaimed, “I can still hear her out there. Laughing at me.”
“She’ll be dead soon, pet, I swear it,” said Spike emphatically, “I came back for you first! So we can kill her together.”
“Together?”
Despite the anger in her eyes, he could tell that Dru is intrigued by the idea.
“Always, love. We’re forever, you and me.”
She was silent for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t though. Time only felt like it was dragging on when she wasn’t there to share it with him. Spike felt better already, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
“Will you make me a necklace out of her spine?”
“Of course I will, love. A necklace out of her spine and earrings out her intestines.”
To his surprise, Drusilla laughed at that.
“Oh, my silly Spike. Intestines don’t make good earrings. They drip so. It’d spoil all my dresses.”
My. She’d said ‘my’ Spike! The male vampire was so exhilarated that he failed to notice Drusilla drawing closer, snapping a pair of cold metal handcuffs around his wrist.
“Err … Dru? I’m the one that’s supposed to torture you.”
“Mmmm?” She smirked at him, eyes like chips of agate as she pushed him down to the floor of the alley. “Such sweet ideas you have, my darling deadly boy. But Mummy wants to play.”
Spike grinned. He could live with that.
He just hoped that she had keys for the handcuffs.
Prompt: "I'll just torture her 'til she likes me again."
Word Count: 914
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no subject
Date: 2009-02-27 11:00 pm (UTC)“I’m not looking for a fight. Fights just seem to … find me.”
How very Spike. Such a prevaricator!
I do wonder at the significance of "my" dresses. What makes Spike so happy about that word?
I've got a new Spike/Dru up on my journal, if you're interested. Mardi Gras!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-01 06:35 pm (UTC)Is that for