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Drusilla leaned back into Mary’s embrace. “Look at my sweet one. All tied up like a pretty present. Is he a present? Is he for me?” She cocked her head.

“Would you like him?” Mary kissed Drusilla’s cheek, keeping her eyes fixed on Spike.

“Oh, yes…” Drusilla clapped her hands, childlike. “My Spike makes such a lovely dolly!”

Mary removed her arms from Drusilla’s waist. “Then he’s yours. To do with as you will.”

Drusilla walked slowly across the room, swaying gracefully as if she were dancing. Even after all that had happened, even after everything that had come between them, even in this… bloody stupid… situation, Spike felt the tug of her beauty. His dark queen. So graceful. So beguiling. So dangerous. So completely out of her tree.

She sat next to him on the bed and tilted her head with a smile. “Oh, Spike,” she tutted, shaking her head, “Now look. They’ve taken the nasty little wires out of your poor head and given you something so much worse.” She pushed his shirt up over his chest as she talked and ran her hands over the smoothness of his chest, purring like a cat. Her purr turned to a hiss. “I can feel it. Burning, writhing…” She pressed a fingernail hard into his skin until a pearl of blood appeared. She smiled and scooped the blood onto her finger, licking it off with a cat-like flick of her tongue. “We should cut it out.” She made a scissor motion with her fingers. “Snip-snip!”

“Don’t think it’s that easy, love.”

“Angelus had a soul and then he didn’t.”

“Special case, princess. His soul pops in and out like a bloody cuckoo in a clock.” Spike watched Dru, assessing her mood. “All it takes is getting a happy…”

Drusilla wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Horrid little slayer.” She turned to Mary. “She took daddy, you know. Spoiled him. Made him… weak…” She gave a snarl. “And then…” She looked back to Spike. “She took my Spike. Took him and twisted him until he broke and he couldn’t dance any more.” She ran a finger down his cheek, smiling unhappily. “Poor Spike.” She stood up and began to dance slowly around the room. “And now she has him.” She closed her eyes and held up her arms. “He felt like sunshine. A never-ending sunshine.” She laughed delightedly and then sighed. Dropping her arms she looked over at Spike. ”All my boys…” she said sadly. "My brave knights".

“Dru…”

“Shh!” She held a finger to her lips. “Naughty boy! Grrrr! Mustn’t talk. Not your turn. No cake for you.” She walked slowly back to the bed. She sat next to him again, looked up at him from under lowered eyelids, coquettish, smiling. “Am I still your princess?”

“Always.” Spike watched her warily, well aware how close to the edge she was.

“Your only love?”

“Dru…” Despite himself, he couldn’t lie to her. Not to Dru. “Dru… love…” But what to say?

“Love!” She was suddenly angry. “Bad Spike! You don’t love me!” She stood up and began to pace around the room wringing her hands. Mary made a move to comfort her but Drusilla brushed her away and continued her anguished pacing. “She has you! I can still see her floating all around you. You’re full of her. You’re drenched in her. Nasty little slayer! Wicked little monster!” She bent her head and pressed her hands to her temples, whimpering.

“Drusilla!” Mary rushed to her side and put her arms around her. “Hush, my love.”

Drusilla cowered against Mary, hands covering her eyes. “You love me, don’t you? You love me… even if I’m a bad girl?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not bad!” Mary kissed her forehead. “You’re not bad!”

“I must be bad. I must be very bad!” She turned her head, looking at Spike through her fingers. “He would have killed me… for her…”

“No, darling! Hush now!” Mary held her close, stroking her hair and glared at Spike. Spike winced. So much hate.

As quickly as it had changed before, Drusilla’s mood switched again. She freed herself from Mary and went back to Spike, suddenly calm.

“You should have pushed her away. You should have killed her for your princess. You should have. She’s the worst of all. Worse than the spiders in your head. Worse than the nasty little burning thing in your chest.” She looked at him, head tilted. “Do you love all of her? Do you love her insides, too? Eyeballs to entrails?” She folded her arms across herself, swaying, eyes dreamy, lips curved in a smile. “Shall we see? Shall we take the little killer’s insides out and see if you love them?” The smile faded and she focussed back on him. “I think we should.” Her voice was cold. She stood up stretching and yawning. “I’m sleepy now. Shall we go to bed?” She looked over at Mary, smiling slyly.

Mary held out her hand. “Come.” She looked over at Spike. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait there for a while.” She cocked her head and looked at him thoughtfully. “You’re not looking well, you know. Sort of… peaky. That’s what happens when you drink nothing but animal blood. You’re beginning to smell like a butcher’s shop. We need to get you some nice human blood. Better still, we need to get you some nice slayer blood. Two birds with one stone.”

Arms around each other, the two women left Spike to the discomfort of his shackles, closing the door softly behind them.

******

The after effects of the tranquiliser dragged Spike down into an uneasy sleep despite himself. His dreams were full of blood, of screaming and begging and dying and broken victims. At the centre of it all was Drusilla, smiling that strange, twisted smile of hers, standing arm outstretched, something red in the palm of her hand. “She wouldn’t give it to you,” she said slowly. “So I took it for you. It’s a present…” She was offering him a still beating heart. “But it doesn’t have your name on it…” He woke with a start, dry-mouthed and panic-stricken. The after effects of the dream eased slowly, leaving him with a deep sense of unease. He was relieved at least to find the thundering headache had been replaced by a vague ache, even if his stomach seemed intent on tying itself in painful knots. He shifted his position and groaned.

“You used to like to play.” Drusilla detached herself from the shadows by the door and drifted slowly over to the bed. “Do you remember?”

“I remember.” He looked over at Drusilla, frowning into the shadows behind her. “Where’s your little friend?”

Drusilla gave a slow smile. “Baby’s gone a-hunting. Gone to get a slayer skin to wrap my sweet boy in…” The smile narrowed. “Won’t that be nice? She said I could have you. Until she brings the slayer home.” Dru climbed onto the bed, straddling Spike’s hips. “Shall we play a game?”

“Not really in the position, love.” He rattled the cuffs.

“Pretty bracelets.” Dru giggled and wriggled against him. “They won’t stop this game,” she growled.

Spike looked up at her. Despite everything, he was struck again by how beautiful she was, at the depth of feelings she could still stir in him. He felt a sudden rush of tenderness for her. “Where did you go?” he said softly. “You know, after...”

“After you nearly killed me?” Dru tilted her head with a pout. “That wasn’t nice you know, changing the rules when I wasn’t looking. The music hadn’t stopped. Spoiled the game.”

He looked up at solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

There was a flash of something in Drusilla’s eyes – a sudden touch of sanity, a vision of the girl she could have been that tore at his heart. “I loved you,” she whispered. “I really did…” And then it was gone. “Do you like my dolly?” She gave him a proud smile. “I made her, you know. Like I made you. Only you won’t play with me any more. You’re broken. But dolly says we can fix you. And then… we can be a family…”

“But Mary’s not family. Angel…”

“Shh! Naughty children, mustn’t squabble!” Dru growled. “All play together nicely, or mommy will be cross.” She reached out a hand and pressed it to Spike’s cheek. “But you’ll always be my special one.” She smiled gently. “Am I special, too?”

Spike leaned into her touch. “Always.” He watched her carefully. “My black goddess.” He turned his head to press a kiss on her palm, “My ripe,” bent his head to trail his lips over her wrist, “wicked plum.” He raised his head, eyes locked with hers. “It's been...”

Drusilla’s eyes were dreamy, unfocussed, lost in memories. “Forever…” she said softly bringing her lips to his.

“Dru…” he whispered against her lips. “Dru, love, where’s the key…?”

“Sweet.” Mary’s voice from the door was heavy with sarcasm.

Dru turned to look at her as Spike groaned in annoyance. “Did you bring me a present?”

“Yes, love.“ She smiled. “It’s in our room.”

Dru jumped to her feet, clapping her hands in delight. “Is it her? Have you brought me sweetmeats?”

“No, not this time.” Dru gave a disappointed pout and Mary laughed. “Soon. Now – go eat, precious. We have to move to somewhere new…”

Drusilla frowned fretfully. “I like it here. It smells of roses… and blood…”

“Ah, but where we are going is so much nicer. And the friend who’s letting us stay? You met him once and he is so looking forward to seeing you again.” Mary gave Spike a hard smile. “And you, too.”

“Then I must go and pack.” Drusilla smiled. “We shall have a lovely holiday.” She ran a hand over Mary's cheek and left.

Mary turned to look at Spike. “We need to move you. My friend seems to think you have some powerful people looking for you. We aren’t safe here. And your slayer wants you back, it seems. No matter. She’ll see you soon enough.” Mary opened a drawer and took out a vial and syringe.

“Why are you doing this?” Spike eyed the syringe.

“Because I can.” Mary gave him a mocking smile.

“But… look, you and Dru… you’re clearly…" he paused “…close.” He went on as Mary gave an amused laugh. “Why am I here?”

“Because it’s what Drusilla wants. She thinks she’ll get you back. She thinks slayer blood will bring her darling deadly boy back. And she’ll have us both.” Mary shrugged. “It makes sense to her.”

“Yeah, but you’re not barking. You know it won’t work.”

“Of course not. But you see,“ Mary leaned closer to him and hissed, “you hurt Drusilla. You have no idea how much. So I’m going to hurt you.” She pulled away and smiled. “And what better way than killing your precious slayer. And Drusilla will enjoy that so much.”

“You know you’ll never stand up to Buffy.” Spike hoped he sounded more convinced than he felt.

“No? Maybe not in the past. But now? She’s weak. She’s lost her drive.” She frowned and shook her head. “Sorry excuse for a slayer, that one. Besides, you’re not the only one with friends in high places.” She held up the vial. “Now, let’s just get you ready.” Mary frowned in concentration as she drew the amber coloured liquid up into the syringe. She turned to him with a smile, brandishing the needle. “Now – this is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me.”

Spike wondered whether there was any mileage to be had in kicking the syringe out of her hand, other than just making him feel better about the situation. Better still, if he timed it right, perhaps he could kick her unconscious - although what the fuck he’d do when she came round he didn’t know. He came to conclusion that, sensible or no, he was buggered if he was going to let the bint jab him without a fight.

“Fuck you,” he said through gritted teeth, watching for his moment as Mary came closer.

“Told you before, sweetie, you’re not my type.” Mary smiled down at him.

“No? Maybe you should try it.” He kept his eyes on the syringe.

She looked at him, head tilted in amusement. “You know, I just might just. See what all the fuss is about.” She gave a sigh of mock disappointment. “But it’s going to have to wait. Now, where do you want it?”

As she bent toward him, Spike tensed his muscles, poised for a fight. Little bit closer. Damn, this was going to feel good.

It was then all hell broke loose.





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