PART 4

Sunnydale cemetary
October 22nd, 2002.

"Come on, luv! We were supposed to have a bit of a bash tonight. Not going to some soddin' fancy dress party here."

Standing at the foot of the crude staircase, the somewhat irritated and really bored vampire ran his hands through his bleached hair, which was so very white that it was almost reflective in the dim light of the wax candles. He was back in his black yeans and T shirt combo, although Dru had been literally thrilled with the ridiculous knight outfit in which he had woken up into her strange world. Of course he would had done everything to please his dark princess, he would have slain armies for her, brought her back the blood of newborn babies if she'd asked for it (and believe me, she did), even would have let her tie him up and allow her to fumble at his private parts while she was holding a wineglass filled to the rim with holy water. However, with that soddin' Halloween's costume, he definitely drew the line. Fortunately, he found clothes suiting more to his taste on his dinner a couple of nights ago. That one was indeed a happy meal; a nice treat and something to have a bite in, what more could a vampire possibly ask for.

Still, he was missing a long, black leather trenchcoat to complete his wardrobe and was thinking of pursuing one tonight, at the big coming out party that he had planned to throw in town. If Drusilla was ever going to finish with dressing up, that was.

"Dru!" His voice trembled with impatience. Bloody hell woman, I'm bored out of my bloody mind. Let's get going already. "If you don't finish within a minute, I'm coming up to get you, whether you're dressed or not!"

"Don't hassle her darkness. She could be in the very moment of fixation right now, talking to the starts to see into the future."

Spike snapped his head around and noticed the vampire that his lover had made to serve her, a dark haired boy who went by the name of Keats with eyes almost as blue as his own. They were distant, even when addressing him or his Sire. It took only a couple of seconds right after he was introduced to Keats before the bleached vampire realized that the fledgling was as mad as his creator, and that was before the deranged wanker opened his mouth and started to speak. Dru had claimed that she was lonely and that the boy had reminded her of him, although he wasn't half as cooperative when being turned, which explained his current state of mind and the many scars on his flesh of his back.

Spike tried to remain friendly to the lad.

"Piss off, you little dimwit. If I need a minion with only half a brain, I will give a whistle."

The younger vampire growled.

"I don't like you."

"Yeah, well, write it down on a sheet of paper and go complain to your boss, why don't you. Dru!!"

He turned his attention back to the small wooden door at the top of the stairs.

"Dru!! Get the bleedin' hell ready right now or you can forget about our nice little plan. I'll be off. Alone."

"Spike." A small voice came out of the bedroom as the door slowly opened and a white hand appeared, fingers so slender that they could slip easily through a keyhole.

"Don't be cross with me. I couldn't find my nice Sunday dress. The one with all the laces and the white bows over the shoulders. The one I wear to go to church. I can't find it anywhere."

The sadness and the disappointment that sounded in her words took the edge off his anger, and Spike managed to find enough patience left in the pit of his stomach to try to comfort his love.

"Don't worry, pet. I'm sure you'll look fine in anything you wear. Now come downstairs, will you?"

"No I can't. My hair, it's all dull and dead. It's withering away."

"No it's not. It's just the frickin' light in here, too many soft candles and too little harsh fluorescent lightbulbs. So let's get the hell out of this yawning hole and go someplace nice where your hair does look good, shall we?"

There was no response coming from his beloved, and the pale fingers disappeared inside again. Closing the door.

Spike had enough of this. He had been itching to get out to cause some mayhem for the last two tedious long hours. There was simply not any more tolerance left in him to wait for Dru to get her mind straight for a change and stroll down those steps by her own.

"Right then." He snapped angrily, "I'm gonna drag you out of that soddin' room, even if you're still naked as the day you were born."

He rushed up the steps, taking two at the time, and stormed into their bedroom. The door flew open and banged against the stone wall with such brute force that it splintered the wood.

Drusilla stood in front of their double bed, completely naked amid piles of dresses spread out on the floor. Her long, slim arms were wrapped around her doll. Her skin was so pale that even the white fabric of Miss Edith's dress seemed to contrast with her complexion. The vampire girl stared at him, her dark eyes innocently large. Her lips slightly parted as if she was surprised by his rude interruption.

"Spike." She spoke, sounding so small that it would melt even the most hardened of hearts. "Can I bring Miss Edith with me? She has been good the last few days and she is already properly dressed."

The blond vampire remained silent for a while and kept standing by the door, his eyes strayed over her mysteriously beautiful body, observing every soft feminine curve and marveling at the perfect rounds that were her breasts. Something got stuck in his throat as he remembered how every bewitching part of her tasted, and he wished that he could have her taste on his tongue right now.

Gently, he took her hand and pulled her near. She was light as a feather and giggled childishly as he put his hand over her breasts. He squeezed her nipples, turning the pink flesh between his fingers till Drusilla threw her head back over her shoulders and screamed.

He kissed the soft flesh of her exposed neck. The scent of her filled him, satisfied his senses. Her hands crawled under his shirt and nails dug deep into his flesh, making him bleed as their lips collided hungrily in fiery passion.

"God, I love you so much it bloody hurts." Spike mumbled.

"Pain is good. It reminds me that I'm alive. Sometimes I tend to forget that we're still living and not already dead."

"Oh, we are alive, luv. We are alive." He kissed her and pushed her against the banister, his hands going everywhere. "As long as we two stay together, we will live like kings."

"And queens." Purred Drusilla. "Like in fairytales. Happily ever after."

"Yeah, with the whole soddin kingdom rejoicing while we shag ourselves senseless in a large pool of our daft subjects' blood."

They kissed once more, then he pushed her soft luring body gently away, holding her by her thin waist while he assured that she didn't remove too much of his skin with her nails scratching over his back. Dru was sometimes like a big cat that didn't know how to retract her claws.

"Shall I help you pick out some clothes, pet? It's getting late already and my stomach is all grumbles. And you really shouldn't go out like this! You'll catch a cold."

Drusilla pouted. Although she had already forgotten what she was supposed to be doing, she didn't like to be treated like a little girl. It was the natural reaction of any six-year-old child, or the likely reply of a 142 year old mentally challenged vampire like herself.

"I promise I'll pick out something nice. Something with flowers and laces. Something to match the colors of your eyes."

His love's pouting lips widened into a smile.

"Make me pretty." She cooed cheerfully.

"Sure, pet. As pretty as you wish to be."

There was no way in his right mind that he could ever find anyone more interesting or more beautiful than this delicate nightshade blossoming in eternal darkness. Drusilla was everything for him. Losing her would mean spending eternity on earth in his private hell till he was saved from the agony of it all by an early dusty end.

He was not planning to go through that type of torture ever again.