The Tale of Spike's New Princess. (6/9). Standalone.

[elisi]

Now this was written already, but because it’s dear lillianmorgan’s birthday today, it got upgraded to Birthday Fic. And then I looked at it again, and realised that it was actually a rather decent stand alone, so here it is for everyone to see! No Spike/Dawn ickiness at all - but still disturbing though.

I know the title is a travesty, but there ya go. Once I’d thought of it, I couldn’t let it go - and it is a whole summary all in itself! ;)

Setting: AU post-’The Gift’. Buffy was never resurrected and Spike and Dawn have been dating for around 9 months (in secret). It’s now the week before Halloween. (In BtVS terms, sometime between ‘Selfless’ and ‘Him’)
Rating: PG-13 - nothing sexual, but quite disturbing.
Pairing: Spike/Dawn vaguely implied.
Beta: The lovely kathyh!
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and that’s probably a good thing...
Icon by vampkiss.


Goodbye Mr. Chip




Last appointment of the day, and Lilah wonders if she really would have chased her job so single-mindedly if she'd stopped for two seconds to consider the workload. At least she doesn't have the upcoming Halloween party to organise. Looking around her calm and beautiful office where she has been through yet another difficult and awkward day, she silently thanks the Senior Partners for supplying anti-headache spells free to senior staff. Lord knows she's needed it today...

Checking her appointment list on the computer screen, she - as usual - first looks in the 'species' box, since if it is anything too disgusting she'll change out of her new Prada outfit. The incident that sparked that particular reflex is one she tries not to dwell on. She frowns when she sees that it says 'vampire', and buzzes her PA to bring in a cup of coffee and whatever notes she's prepared for her. The name 'Spike' rings a bell, but it isn't until a few moments later, when flicking through the papers, that she understands why. Of course - Angel's grandchilde that Dru sired back in the late 1800s... she skims the notes, taking in dates and events, enough so that she'll know how to deal with him. He's given no reason for why he made the appointment, but with a grandsire like Angel he didn't need to, as he probably well knew. Taking another mouthful of her refreshing drink, she asks Claire to send him in. This might actually be fun for a change...

As the door opens, her first thought is that the photos didn't do him justice at all. Peroxide blond hair, like a halo above the blackness of his outfit - a dark angel. Although of course he's completely unlike the real Angel, except in the careless confidence he displays. His grandsire has several inches on this guy, but Spike’s sheer presence more than makes up for it.

And what a presence it is - where Angel counts on intimidation, Spike appears to cruise along on pure charm. Which of course isn’t surprising - the cheek bones alone...

He smiles a winning smile at her, and she gestures for him to sit down... "Please take a seat Mr. - ?"

"Just call me Spike!" he replies, and she nods.

"Well it's nice to meet you Spike. I'm Lilah Morgan, head of Special Projects. What can I do for you?"

He looks at her shrewdly, and she knows that he's well aware that nothing comes for free in this world. Still, he answers immediately.

"Well as you probably know, some years back the government set up this 'project' in Sunnydale, and unfortunately the bastards managed to put a chip in my head that makes it impossible for me to kill or hurt anything human. Right pain it is - literally - so since I heard you brought back greatgrandmama from Never Never Land I thought maybe you could give me a hand too, obviously being resourceful people!"

She smiles, having already figured this out from the notes, but she appreciates his straightforward honesty. It makes a nice change from the games she's usually involved in.

"Well that certainly sounds like something we could sort out for you Spike - of course these things aren't cheap..."

He twinkles back at her and leans back in the chair, hands behind his head. Lilah can't help but take in the perfection of his black clad form, and half-heartedly bemoans her sort-of attachment to Wesley. Not that she'd ever go out with a vampire, but still... there's more than a century's knowledge contained in those eyes, and he makes sure she knows it.

"Didn't figure I'd get it for free, but no harm in asking I guess! I do have certain talents if you're interested...?" He lifts an eyebrow and smirks suggestively.

Oh he never went hungry for long pre-chip, she’s sure of that. At least she's accustomed to this sort of back-and-forth with Wesley and keeps her composure perfectly.

"I will do my best to ignore the implications of what I believe you're suggesting, Sir. If you have anything to offer that could be of advantage to this firm, I'd be happy to hear it."

He sits up again, unrepentant (if a little bashful), and then becomes serious.

"OK - I figured there's probably plenty of below board stuff that you guys need sorting out, and I'm happy to be your man. I haven't killed anything that isn't a demon in years, so any fat businessmen that need a swift meeting with something sharp and pointy I'd be happy to take care of."

He stops, and then, seeing as she's about to speak, carries on swiftly: "Oh and I'm having nothing to do with the mighty broody one, OK? I've heard a bit about the crazy life he leads these days, and I’m not interested in getting mixed up in that train wreck. There is no way I'm going near him or his pet humans - period. Understood?"

She nods silently, annoyed at the opportunity missed, but also remembering far too clearly what happened when they tried to play Darla and Dru. Probably best not to throw in a wild card at this junction... still, no point in letting him get what he wants so easily. Her best blank face in place, she replies.

"Now we do use hired assassins and similar, it's true, but there are plenty of those out there - most of them cheaper than you!"

"Figured you'd say that!" he grins, "which is why I've got something else as well... see yours truly has been looking after a certain Hellmouth for a year and a half now, and thought that that might earn me an extra bonus!"

She quirks an eyebrow. "The Hellmouth in Sunnydale has been inactive all that time - since the local Slayer died I believe. From what my sources say, activity has almost ceased."

He stares back, giving as little away as she - obviously still playing.

"'Almost' being the operative word, pet. Don't get all the troublemakers we used to, who just tear about for the fun of it. Instead we get a steady flow of Apocalypse wanna-bee's, intent on activating the Hellmouth - or even opening it. Those are the ones you've got to watch out for. They’re usually easy to spot because of the robes and the crazy eyes, but it’s still a hell of a job keeping on top of them all!" He stops for a moment, and then goes all reflective. "Of course hell on earth does have its advantages, so I really don't care which way it goes, mostly just fighting because I'm a sentimental fool I guess... and with the chip in my head, this world has lost a bit of its appeal..."

Oh he isn't as stupid as his pretty blue eyes would indicate, Lilah will give him that. Letting the world go to hell if they don't help was not a card she'd foreseen, and she is impressed in spite of herself. They both know that it’s mostly bluff, but to have the balls to play it.... she’s really warming to him. He’s just the sort of guy they need to have working for them. Someone able to think on his feet.

"Interesting..." she says, "it seems we've not been keeping close enough tabs on Sunnydale."

A sudden flash of something across his face, and then he replies, voice cold:

"Leave Sunnydale alone. It's my town and I'll look after it."

So that’s how it is... There must be something - or more likely someone - in the town that keeps him there, and keeps him fighting. She makes a mental note to check up on this at some point in the future, just in case he breaks his contract. But she finds this an unlikely outcome - only fools try to back out of deals with W&H and Spike is certainly no fool.

Anyway, leaving Sunnydale alone is something she’s more than happy to do (not her jurisdiction, and it’s not her responsibility to make sure whoever should be keeping tabs is doing it), so she agrees easily.

"I think we might just have a deal, Spike. If you have a phone number so we can call you in future when there are... jobs for you, I'll make an appointment straight away with one of our doctors. I'm sure you'll be satisfied."

Moments later everything is sorted out and they shake hands before Spike sweeps out again, and Lilah can begin to think about dinner of some sort...

Although...

There is indeed a 'fat businessman' who's been on their hit list for more than a week now after he breached his contract. A random vampire killing would be pretty much perfect.

She sighs happily and again feels the joy of her job flooding through her. Life is good - and so is she!

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

The soft evening light shimmers around him as Spike leaves the W&H building for the second time in two days. He can scarcely believe how easy it’s been. Tenderly he reaches up to feel the back of his head, but there is no pain - even the scar is gone. In his hand he has the address of his first target, but he’s not in a hurry as he begins strolling down the street. Tucking away the slip of paper he looks around him, trying to take in the new-found freedom that he can still scarcely believe is his.

Then he sees her.

A small form, huddled on the sidewalk, a less than clean blanket around her legs.

Just a little teen runaway amongst a thousand others... and yet he feels compelled to go to her. As he gets closer he can see that she’s still very new to the streets. There is fear and worry on her face, and the well fed look that comes from regular meals.

“Hello love,” he says, and hunches down in front of her.

She shies away, but looks up despite herself - a little curious after all. Oh she can’t be more than 15, 16 at the most... He wonders what she might be running away from - Broken home? Abuse? Now he looks at her more closely he can see the damage in her eyes - something he learned to recognise a very, very long time ago.

“Who are you?” she asks, defensively, and he smiles.

“Just call me Spike.”

She frowns a little and studies him, obviously trying to work out why he’s talking to her: “What do you want?”

Now that’s the question isn’t it? He reckons that she’s maybe a week or two away from putting out - maybe less. Girl’s gotta eat, and homeless shelters don’t have a lot to go around. Also they always try to send the young ‘uns back home as she’s probably already found out.

“How would you like to earn some money?” he asks. He can see her pull away, and yet there’s a yearning on her face when he extracts a wad of cash from his pocket.

“Don’t worry pet, you wouldn’t have to do a thing,” he assures her. “I just... want to taste you a little.” He reaches out softly and strokes her neck, lingering for a few seconds as he can feel her pulse hum under his fingers.

“What?”

She’s looking at him like he’s a complete weirdo, which isn’t surprising, but he holds her eyes, smiling until she tentatively smiles back.

There’s no reason why he shouldn’t just grab her and drain her dry, but he’s feeling an odd reluctance to upset her. He’s not even sure why he chose her - maybe because of her fleeting resemblance to Dawn, although this girl could never be called beautiful. Maybe because he always liked his victims young and tender...

“Shhh...” he whispers, and reaches out to take her hand.

Moments later she’s following him down an alleyway, a hundred dollars held tightly in her little hand.

He stops and gently pushes her against the wall.

“Don’t worry pet, it’ll only hurt a little...” She swallows and he can sense her rising panic, but he gently and carefully puts his arms around her before softly kissing her neck. She relaxes just a bit, and with a deep breath to steady himself he lets his fangs descend. This is it...

The memory of a thousand blinding headaches flash behind his eyes, but then the feel of the blood pumping just below the surface of the skin is too much and he bites.

A symphony of colours and ecstasy explode in his head, as a prize sweeter than any he’s tasted for years hits his tongue. The girl is struggling now, screaming, but he can’t hear her over the chorus of joy that ripples though him, carrying warmth and light out into every part of his being. His arms have become a prison of steel, and the girl’s strength soon wanes as he drinks and drinks, his whole existence remade in a moment.

As his hunger slowly gets sated, he realises that the girl has stopped breathing.

Oh.

He lies her down on the ground and studies her, confused at the slight sadness he feels. He hadn’t meant to kill her, just to have a taste... guess he got carried away. Absentmindedly he wipes his mouth and sighs. Ah well, maybe it was for the best - girl like her would end up a prostitute in no time, and then there’d be drugs and disease... no, she’s probably better off this way. Mercy killing, that’s what it is.

Also of course, this way he gets to keep his money - which reminds him, he must buy something for Dawn. He promised her a surprise for Halloween...

And he walks back down the alley, whistling to himself, deciding that life has never been as good as it is right now.

The nameless girl left lying on the dirty ground, already forgotten.


Continued in Real Me.