I Blame the Dutch (mpoetess) wrote,
I Blame the Dutch

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[Okay, I don't hate it. I just don't know exactly what it is, or if it goes anywhere. :-P at zortified]

Theoretically this was a Spike POV snippet from an AU bunny wherein Dru *did* manage to drag Xander off in BB&B. And Dru being Dru, the fascination for her lasted past the spell itself being broken, not that Xander knows it's been broken. Bleh bleh bleh bleh bleh. But I wrote something.


Boy's a mess. Huddled in the corner, same place he's been since she pushed him through the door with a kiss and 'a tra la la, Daddy's home, best you hide here, precious, mummy'll come for you later.' Ragged, bleeding, eyes big as dinner plates, heart pounding so loud I can hear it from across the room. Surprised he hasn't shit himself, except maybe it's all coming too fast out the other end, nonsense words tumbling from his mouth quicker than anybody could put 'em in order.

"Christ, how'm I gonna get out of here... Can't leave, she said to hide, and daddy's coming and we all know who that is, and me without so much as a stake in my pocket. No, Drusilla, I'm just happy to see you. *Not* gonna get out of here, that's how. Have to hide - she said to hide, so I'll hide and then he'll find me and eat me and at least we managed to solve that problem. Guess there's a bright side -- Buffy won't have to kill me for getting her turned into a rat..."

That jerks a laugh out of me, though I can't tell if he's serious or just Dru-struck. Boy stares over at my corner of the room, eyes wider than ever. Hell, he didn't even know I was here, so stuck into his own babble.

"You turned the Slayer into a rat? And here I've been going to all the trouble of trying to kill her the hard way." I wheel into what passes for the light in this dingy little antechamber. "Who knew all I had to do was hire one of her friends?"

He sits up, reaches for weapons he hasn't got. "Spike. Look, it's Spike. Because I needed to know that yes, my day could in fact get worse. Nothing personal, but...ah. Hi. You know, that thing about not having a stake? Don't suppose you'd be willing to believe I was kidding?" He lisps when he gets nervous. It's almost funny, to watch him wince at how stupid he must know he sounds.

"You mean you're not just happy to see me? What a shame."

Only half playing. Bored. Pissy. Tired of seeing my girl draped over daddy's arm, my presents tossed on the rubbish heap while his get the cooing and the laughing and the best daddy ever. If she threw the kid in here for me, it'd at least mean she thought of me -- and he's not that bad to look at, might be worth more than just a quick drink. Except she didn't; he's not for me. He's just something pretty she's fixated on, brought home as a tea-cake, and if I nibble, she'll say I've ruined the feast. I know that game -- if all I get now are crumbs from her, they're still better than nothing.

It takes him a second to get the joke; when he does, he shakes his head, dark hair shedding bits of leaves and brush. Must have thrown him over her shoulder, dragged him through the trees. Never careful with her toys, is our Dru; then she wonders why they get spoilt so quickly. "No. No. Definitely not. No happies here."

I yank his chain a bit. Why not? That won't get me in trouble with the missus, at least. "Pity." With a lick to my lip, and let him take that how he likes.

He stares. "You've gotta be kidding. This love spell thing works on guys, too? Great. Just great. That's all I needed." There's a flicker of something desperate in his eyes, and a madman's sort of hope in his grin -- he *is* pixilated on Dru's special little brand of mesmerism. "No, wait -- that *is* great. Hey... um. If I *were* happy to see you, what's the chance that this might end with me not getting eaten? You and me, sneak off for a moonlit stroll...um...roll..."

I could tell him the only way I could eat him is if he came over here and sat on my lap -- and then I'd know for sure if he's happy to see me or not -- but I don't. I could ask him just what love spell he's talking about, so I don't have to strain to hear Angel bitching about it outside on the factory floor. Don't do that either. I just laugh. Because it's the most sincere come-on I've heard since Big Daddy blew back into our lives. Oh wait -- it's the only one.

The response when it comes is sullen, defensive. "You know, if I'd meant that, I'd be pretty damned insulted right about now."

Only makes me laugh harder. Happy Valentine's Day, Spike.
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