the pearl

All That Glitters Is Cold

Co-written with Katie Vieceli

Do you like girls or boys...it's confusing these days..." — Hallo Spaceboy

Present Day

Spike and Drusilla lounged together in a dark corner of the smoky club, looking out over the sea of people who had come to get a taste of the new British hipness, people with bad hair and worse clothing. "Lord, this reminds me of the bloody seventies. Never seen so many wannabes in my entire unlife."

Spike lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, turning to smile at Drusilla. At least she was here, away from Angel and the Sunnyhell. At least she was talking to him again. At least she was running one slender hand up his thigh...

"Found yourself something good, pet?" She nodded and licked his cheekbone while her other hand massaged his hip.

"She's pretty, Spike..almost as pretty as Princess." He followed her gaze to a tall elegant black woman in an expensive couture dress. "I think she'd be tasty, like chocolate and cinnamon..."

A slightly shorter man moved in front of the woman, obscuring their view. As they watched, he kissed the woman's cheek. Drusilla searched for a new meal, but Spike kept watching. There was something about the man...the way he held himself, the angle of his chin. His eyes widened as he placed him.

"Dru, poodle, look at that man again."

Drusilla looked back and then brightened noticeably. "Oh, Spike, how lovely," she cooed happily. " It's David!"

 

When you're a boy...other boys check you out..." — Boys Keep Swingin'

1972

Spike and Drusilla walked into the small, low-lit club, their eyes slowly adjusting. Unidentifiable shapes soon became figures, soon became people, walking slowly through the haze of smoke and music.

Drusilla smiled her nearly innocent smile, her brown eyes wide and curious. "It's all so lovely..." She walked slowly through the crowd, weaving her way through groups, her gauzy dress floating behind her.

Spike watched her and the crowd warily. A few older men, bitter old queens who had spent their lives in a series of small clubs just like this one, let their eyes linger over him, taking in the tight leather pants and black t-shirt, his razor-sharp cheekbones accented by chin length wavy pale brown hair. Their eyes followed him and they sighed longingly, sighing over his perfect male beauty and youth wasted on the young.

Drusilla started to dance, her eyes sparkling as her body moved. She had just fed off of another heroin addict in the alleyway, and her cheeks were flushed with the blood as her eyes glittered with the drug.

Spike moved to a corner table and sat down, a drink soon placed in front of him. The waiter pointed to a middle-aged man sitting at the bar, his eyes watching Spike as he took a drag from his cigarette. Spike nodded at the man, sizing him up not as a prospective lover, but as a prospective meal. The man stood, and was about to make his way over when Drusilla crashed into a chair, giggling.

"Oh Spike!" She exclaimed over the noise. "You bought me a drink!" She grabbed the drink from him and gulped it like a small child. As she drank, another person crashed into the third chair.

The third person, a delicate woman with bleach-blond hair, looked directly at Spike. "I don't think I've ever seen you around," she said, her accent oddly shifting from London party-girl to American. Her makeup-ringed eyes were wide, her pupils dilated.

"We just got into town," Spike said. He turned to Drusilla.

"Who is she?" he asked her quietly.

Drusilla smiled her almost innocent smile, like a small child with a bug. "Angie....we're friends now....she has the prettiest glow about her..."

Spike looked at the woman critically for a moment, the turned to Drusilla. "I don't see it, pet."

"Silly little Spike....she's special...she knows things..." The woman nodded, grinning. "Thas' right, I know things. Like where to get the best of everythin' here... Why don't you come back to the house and you can see what'cha like? You can meet my husband..."

Spike thought about it for a second, then shrugged. "Why not?"

Drusilla smiled and clapped. "It'll be so much fun! Like a picnic on a Sunday...or cutting someone into pieces..."

The woman started laughing loudly. "You're so funny!" She slowly stood up, wavering slightly. "I'm....I'm Angie...."

Spike nodded a greeting. "Spike. Dru, baby, introduce yourself."

"Drusilla..." Drusilla held out her hand. "I'm a princess."

Angie started laughing again. "Right! David'll just love you!"

 

"As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent...You asked for the latest party..." — Diamond Dogs

Spike, Drusilla, and Angie left the club and quickly made their way to the large flat nearby. It was filled with people, drugs, and music, each feeding the other in a glittery psychedelic orgy of sight and sound. In the middle of the room, several people swayed along to the music, and along the walls, some hidden in the nooks and crannies of the house and others in plain sight, people in various states of undress groped frantically at each other. It was a buffet of vice, and Spike just wasn't in the mood.

"I told ya I knew things, " Angela trilled, waving and blowing kisses to people as she walked through the flat.

"Isn't this wonderful, Spike?" Drusilla said, putting her mouth right next to his ear." Nobody will miss anyone here..it's a feast. A feast of beautiful people."

Spike lit another cigarette and looked around the place in disdain. "Whatever you say, pet. Go have fun."

Angie pulled at Dru's arm. "I want you to meet my husband. Where is he?" She scanned the crowd for a minute. "Oh! Let's go get something to refresh us first..." Spike followed at a safe distance behind the pair, giving a cool warning glare to anyone who dared glanced at Dru. He got a lot of looks himself, but something about the tall pale man kept people at a distance.

Angela finally reached a table, where a large pile of cocaine was liberally spilled across it. She cut herself a line and inhaled expertly, then smiled at Drusilla and offered her the straw.

Drusilla glanced at Spike, but he was looking away, obviously bored. Quickly, like a small child knowing that she was doing something wrong, she took the proffered straw and inhaled. As the rush hit her, she spun around with her arms in the air, crashing into Spike.

He caught and steadied her, frowning. "Pet, how many times have I told you not to..." He looked at her, then closed his eyes and swore. "Bloody hell."

Drusilla fell against him, giggling. "I feel light, Spike...swimming in air...it's all floating..."

"Bloody fucking hell..."

Angela walked up to them, laughing. She looked at Drusilla and shrugged. "Leave her alone, you big meanie, she's having fun.." She stood on tiptoe and licked Spike's neck. " We could all have fun.."

Drusilla leaned back against Spike's arms, almost toppling both of them backwards. "Yes.." she whispered. " I want to have fun. Fun fun fun fun fun fun..."

Spike sighed, and let her go. She wrapped her arms around Angela and kissed her, threading her fingers through the blonde's hair and pulling her onto the couch. Knowing he had lost that battle, Spike turned around and started surveying the area, hoping to find some sort of meal.

At the same time, a long blond haired man looked up from his quiet conversation in the far corner of the room.

The song on the Hi-Fi ended and in that short silence, a line of silent communication flowed between the two men. The noises and shrieks of the partygoers disappeared and there was just the two of them, on a silvery blue ledge of spacetime, peering down into destiny...

 

"He'd like to come and meet us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds" — Starman

Spike leaned against the doorjamb, unable to do anything but stare, his blue-grey eyes riveted to the other man. The man matched his stare, tempting and challenging at the same time. Then, as sudden as it came upon them, the moment had passed. The gaze that Spike had thought was purely for him moved across the throng of "beautiful people" that surrounded them. The thin blond man lit a cigarette, then returned to his conversation.

Spike closed his eyes, that magical state crashing into jarring reality. He realized he was surrounded by drugged-out groupies who were actually rather hideous under their glittery facades. He looked down at his feet, sighing.

Without warning, he was sandwiched between two women, one cold, one blazing hot. "Spiiiiike," Drusilla purred into his ear. "You're not enjoying the party..."

"C'mon, luv," Angie whispered into his other ear. "You have to join in the fun..." To accentuate her words, she bit tenderly on his earlobe.

Spike closed his eyes in pleasure as Drusilla's nimble fingers gently undid the buttons of his long cobalt blue shirt. His eyes opened and he caught sight of the man, leaning close to a dirty looking blond man, deep in conversation. His eyes closed again as he felt a mouth close around his nipple.

Suddenly, the two bodies moved away from him. His eyes snapped open. "What?" he said indignantly.

Angela was grabbing Drusilla's hand. "C'mon..." she was saying. "I found him! You have to meet him!"

Drusilla's hand clamped onto Spike's, dragging him towards the small couch where the man sat. Angie flopped onto the couch next to him. "David, dahling, this is my new friend...Dru..." She gestured towards the tall thin pale woman in the antiquated dress. "And this is...what's your name again, luv?"

"Spike," Spike said tersely, not believing the twists of time, space, and fate that led him to this moment.

However, he wasn't expecting Angela to start laughing. "Spike! Like a big dick! Yeah!" She dissolved into giggles, falling against the man who, Spike realized with a sick horror, must be her husband. After a few seconds, she recovered and waved her hands around, gesturing at each person. "Spike...Drusilla...this is my husband...David..." She leaned in conspiratorially. "He's a big rock star now." She started giggling again.

David straightened at those words, then sighed in quiet frustration. "Angela, I told you not to say that..." he said softly, barely heard over the din of the stereo system.

Angela giggling, pulling Drusilla onto her lap. "Drusilla's my new best friend," she said between kisses. "She's so nice and cool and delicious..." She looked up at Spike. "And you're my friend too," she said to him, grabbing onto his belt buckle and pulling him down onto the couch.

Spike landed on the couch with a thump. He sat there in a daze, scarcely registered Drusilla moving from Angie's lap onto his, David's sharp voice cutting through everything. "And I'm sure you'll have a new best friend tomorrow night...or will these last longer than your last ones, 'dahling'?" His voice dripped poison as he spat out the last word.

Angie was oblivious to him, her tongue sliding over Spike's eyelids as Drusilla slid from Spike's lap to the ground between his legs. Drusilla looked up at David's words and stared at him for a minute, her eyes peering at him. "You have two different colored eyes," she finally said, with the resolution of a small child. She smiled impishly at him before returning to Spike's already undone pants.

Spike groaned low in his throat as he felt a warm mouth encircle his semi-hard cock. His eyes opened to slits as he looked down, seeing Angie's bleached-blond head in his lap. Drusilla was crouched next to Angie, eagerly awaiting her turn. Angela moved away just enough to have Drusilla join her in licking Spike's cock.

David looked at the scene dispassionately, smoking his cigarette with disinterest. Spike, swimming in the sensations of the two streams of hot and cold surrounding his rock-hard cock, couldn't take his eyes off of the aloof man. He wondered, in the small part of his brain that could still think, what it would feel like to have David's thin, aristocratic lips around his cock.

"Christ, David, this is fucking insane. Let's go."

Spike barely heard the other man speak, but he saw David's nod. He felt the couch give before he realized that David was leaving. His mind fleetingly raced around the image of David sucking his cock and he came, not caring whose mouth he was fucking, who he was spilling himself onto, only that, in his mind's eye, it was the man walking away from him.

 

"I saw you watching from the stairs, you're everyone that ever cared" — John, I'm Only Dancing

Spike could not get the blond man out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, the man was there, looking at him with disdain as he came into Angela's mouth.

His obsession drove him further and further, making him buy every album when he caught a glimpse of the man in a record store window. The oldest he threw away after a few listens, but the others he listened to repeatedly, playing them over and over, trying to understand the man behind the lyrics.

And then he discovered where David was recording.

He sat there every night, smoking cigarette after cigarette, waiting for David to tiredly leave the studio and be driven to his house. It was pathetic, really. He saw the man for thirty seconds, being shepherded from the studio to the car. But it was thirty seconds.

This night, Spike sat on the bench as he always did, halfway through a pack of cigarettes. He had hunted earlier in the night, and the lone figure on the bench was almost unnoticeable.

Almost.

David walked out of the studio, chatting with the dirty-looking blond man Spike had begun to recognize. David pushed the hair out of his eyes tiredly, then said goodbye to the man. Spike expected him to get into the waiting car. But tonight, of all nights, fate changed.

David lit a cigarette and buttoned his fitted black blazer. Then he looked straight at Spike. "You might as well come out. I can see you. And I've been seeing you. It's rather tiresome."

Spike stood up slowly, his mind racing to find the appropriate thing to say. But, of course, it wasn't there. There was no appropriate thing to say.

David looked at him disdainfully. "I know you. You're one of Angie's 'friends'." David's lip curled in a sneer. "If you think knowing my strung-out bitch of a wife gets you in with me..." He shook his head. "You're the one she sucked off with your girlfriend while the entire party watched. Quite a show."

Spike felt the situation rapidly slipping from his already weak control. "No...I'm more than that...I really..."

"You really what? You really like getting head from my wife?" He paused for a second. "Unique," he said, his voice harsh with sarcasm.

"No!" Spike flustered. "I...I think..." He looked up at the other man. "I think I love you."

David half-smiled, a vicious, cold, tired smile. "Oh. You 'love me'." He straightened up. "You don't love me. You love the image, the personality, the character. I bet you have all my albums. And maybe a poster or two. Well, guess what, I'm not the person on the record sleeves you jerk off to." He looked directly at Spike, his eyes hard. "You're in love with David Bowie. A fucking character I made up one night when I was bored. Not me."

"Does it matter?"

David backed up a step. "What?"

Spike looked down at the ground, then dropped his cigarette. He looked back up at David, grinding out the cigarette slowly with his foot. "Does it really matter nowadays?"

David looked Spike in the eyes, appraising him, cool, calculated, heartless.

Spike returned the gaze, matching the look. He smiled lightly, once again in the familiar situation of gauging potential, two panthers getting ready to fight or fuck, the tension in the air thick and lurid.

And then it passed as quickly as it occurred, the two men joining together in a rush, their arms clasped tight around each other, their lips smashed together with haste and sloppiness.

They broke only to let David breathe, their bodies moving fluidly from standing to sitting within the car, their arms and lips still locked in a passionate struggle, a victory, a surrender.

 

"You made a bad connection 'cause I just want your sex." — Cracked Actor

The sun began to rise over the city of London. It slid from building to building and crept into the smallest window. A single ray of light peeked from the closed blinds and slowly crawled over the pillow, reaching closer and closer to the light brown hair lying on the pillow.

Spike woke suddenly, his mind sharp with the pain of hunger, feeling the deadly heat of the sun approaching his head. He lurched out of bed, barely noticing the other person cocooned in the blankets, and in his attempt to dive for the shadows, landed on the floor next to the bed.

He grabbed his head, wincing. "Fuck," he said quietly. He reached for his jeans and slowly, painfully, pulled them on. He then crawled on his hands and knees to the doorway, following the scent of warm human flesh. He was so involved in avoiding the sunlight that he almost missed the girl passed out on the floor. The warmth, the scent, the sound of blood running through her veins caused him to act before he thought. His face changed, and he sunk his teeth into the girl's neck.

He drank for what seemed like an eternity, but left her alive. The girl stirred slightly, but never woke, and, aside from the elaborate hickey she'd discover, would never know what had happened.

Spike lifted his head from the girl, wiped his mouth, then slowly sat up, his head clearing. He looked around the room, slowly recognizing where he was. As the cocaine-hangover fog cleared in his mind, the events of the past few days came back into his memory.

He blinked.

He looked back into the bedroom at the cocoon on the bed. A long strand of blond hair peeked from the head of the bed.

He blinked again. Then a slow, sly grin crept over his face. "Right," he said under his breath, still grinning madly. He looked back into the bedroom, trying to plan his move. He slid his way back into the room, carefully avoiding the sunlight, then quickly closed the thick curtains, effectively blocking the sun.

He slowly stood up, still a little dizzy. He quickly regained his balance and walked towards the bed. "David..." he whispered quietly, shaking the other man.

David's head peeked from the blankets. "What?" he said, his voice groggy with sleep and pain. He blinked, then slowly sat up. He frowned as he recognized the man standing there. "What? You're still here?" he asked, his voice disdainful.

Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Why? Is it..." His voice curved into pure sarcasm. "'Unique'?"

David sighed. "Right." He looked around the room. "Look, why don't you make yourself useful and kick that-" He gestured to the girl on the ground. "-out?"

Spike's eyes narrowed. "I'm not your wife," he said sharply.

"Then why'd you let me shag you last night?" David sighed again and reached for the pack of cigarettes lying on the nightstand. He frowned. "Don't you have a bird to go home to? The one who thinks she's a princess and likes sleeping with my wife?"

Spike's shoulders slumped. "Oh bloody hell..." he said quietly. He paused for a moment, then shrugged. "She can take care of herself," he said cheerfully. He looked directly into David's eyes. "So now what?"

David took a deep drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly, not saying a word.

Suddenly, the front door opened with a bang. "Oh David!" Angela's voice trilled from the sitting room. "David, we're here!"

David looked down. "Fuck," he said under his breath. "We're in here," he called out.

Angela strolled in, Drusilla following, and nearly tripped over the girl still passed out on the floor. "Oh, David!" she said. "Can't you possibly get rid of that?"

David looked pointedly at Spike. "I was trying to," he said sharply.

Drusilla bent down and stroked a blond ringlet. "I'll see she goes to a good place," she said, her voice soft and soothing. She lifted the girl effortlessly, and carried her into the hallway.

David looked at Angela. "So how did you find me?" he asked, bored.

"Well, first I called Mick, and he didn't know where you were...and then I called Trevor, and he didn't know where you were...and then I called Mick..." She paused for a second. "Not the first Mick, the other Mick. And he didn't know where you were, but Keith said hello. Then I realized I called the wrong Mick, and I called the other one. Not the first Mick, or the second Mick, but the one that plays guitar, you know..." She waved her arms around as she spoke, accentuating every word. "And then, finally, I thought about it, and I just called the car service. And they knew where you were."

"Remind me to switch services, then," David said quietly.

"But we brought you something!" Angie said brightly, holding up a large bag.

"What is it?" David asked, his voice tingeing on boredom.

Drusilla strolled back in, delicately wiping her mouth with a black lace handkerchief. "I had a vision..." she said soothingly, looking at David. "You had red hair, like your head on was fire..." She turned to Spike. "And my Spike had hair like the evening sun itself, warm and yellow and gold and oh-so-pretty..." She waved her hands over Spike's hair. "Oh it would be perfect...."

Spike grasped one of her hands and held it to his lips. "Missed you, pet," he said softly, barely audible to even vampire ears.

Drusilla smiled sweetly at him. "Did you, my sweet little Spike?"

David looked at Angela, lighting another cigarette. "So what does this...'vision' have to do with you being here?"

Angela giggled girlishly as she dumped the entire contents of the bag onto the bed. "Well, we were thinking, and we then we said, 'well, hair can be dyed'. And so we sent someone to the store, and then we came here, and poor Dru had to be covered up because she's so sensitive to the sun--"

Spike harrumphed and looked pointedly at Dru, who blatantly ignored him.

"--And then we were here and we want to dye your hair!" She looked at David pleadingly. "Mick said you were looking for a new style...and what would be better than really far out hair color?"

David frowned at Angela. "And which Mick was that?" He enjoyed watching Angela's confused blinking for a few minutes, but then waved his hand. "Nevermind." He turned to Spike. "Are you going to go along with this?" he asked him.

Spike shrugged. "It's definitely better than being put out on the street like that other...." He looked directly in David's eyes. "Groupie."

Angela and Drusilla both clapped their hands eagerly. "Goody!" Drusilla said.

Angela pulled up two chair and led Spike to one. "Sit down, Spike, my dear." Spike sat, and she turned to David. "C'mon, love. Can't lie abed all day."

David sighed, and slowly got out of bed, wrapping a sheet around his waist. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray and sat in the other chair. "Right...Shall we then?"

 

"Girls..They come and they go...They kiss..." — Girls

David and Spike sat in the chairs, their necks and shoulders protected by towels, and their hair covered in dye. David looked at Spike. Spike looked at David. They sighed together.

Spike's hand crept up to his hair and gingerly scratched it. Drusilla slapped his hand away. "Naughty naughty," she said, her voice motherly. "Can't touch until it's done."

Spike grumbled wordlessly and slumped in his chair.

"Yeah, you can't touch it because if you touch it, you'll ruin your fingers and you'll ruin your hair..." Angie said, her voice frantic.

"And then the world will end," David said, his voice sarcastic. He sighed. "We're bored, Angie."

Angela frowned for a second, her brows wrinkling together, then clapped her hands together. "I've got it!" She turned to Drusilla. "Baby, come here, and listen to this."

The two women whispered for a few minutes, then turned to the men, large Cheshire-cat grins on their faces. "We know what'll...entertain you," Drusilla said, her voice musical.

Spike sighed. "I don't know, pet. I'm not easy..." He paused for the effect. "To entertain."

Drusilla giggled and slapped his hand playfully. "Bad Spike...." She leaned close to him and kissed him lightly, barely pressing her lips to his. "Watch..."

She pulled away from him and moved back to Angie. The two women stroked each other's faces, then leaned in for a long kiss.

Both Spike's and David's eyes widened. They unconsciously leaned forward, getting a better view of the events to occur.

Angela slid her hands over Drusilla's body, gently, surreptitiously undoing the buttons down the back of the long flowing dress. The dress slithered down from Drusilla's body, revealing creamy pale bare flesh underneath.

Drusilla's hands reached around Angela's neck, one set of nails scratching up and down her back as the other undid the knot of her halter top. The shimmery cloth was pulled away from Angie's breasts, the nipples puckering in the cool air.

Angela broke the kiss, gasping for breath. She flashed a grin at the men sitting, then resumed kissing. Drusilla gently licked Angie's lips, then moved her lips from the other woman's mouth to her neck. She kissed it gently, licking the pulse points, then started to nibble. Angela whimpered as the bites grew harder, denting the skin.

"Uh...Pet..." Spike said, frowning.

Drusilla pulled away from Angela's neck and slowly, languidly, knelt in front of Angela, her hands untying the knot that topped off a long row of laces on the side of the skirt. She pulled the laces out of their eyelets, giggling as the long cord draped over her hands. The skirt slid away from Angela's thighs, leaving her in a light blue pair of nylon bikini panties. Drusilla pulled Angela to the ground, kissing her way up the body as Angie joined her on her knees.

The women resumed kissing, Angela moaning into Drusilla's mouth as Dru's nails scraped delicately over her breasts. Angela retaliated by cupping Drusilla's breasts in her hands and squeezing hard, causing Dru to arch her back, pressing herself even further into Angie's hands.

Spike surreptitiously glanced back and forth between the show and David. David was attempting to look blase, slouching in his chair, watching with a disinterested eye, but when Drusilla bent down and flicked her tongue out to stroke Angela's nipples, a brief flare of lust flashed onto his face. Spike returned to the scene before him, grinning, then widened his eyes as he saw that Drusilla had pushed Angie onto her back and was now licking her way down the other woman's stomach.

Angela groaned loudly as Drusilla dipped between her legs, her tongue sliding over her hot lips. Drusilla's tongue darted around Angela's clitoris, her recent feeding causing her cheeks to brighten, her body to be almost as warm as a mortal. Her hands slid around Angie's hips, stroking the flesh where it stretched tight over her fine bones. As Angela's body began to writhe, Drusilla's fingers tightened, pressing into the flesh, holding her down firmly. She continued to twirl her tongue over Angie's clit, causing Angie to babble and cry out.

"Oh yeah, oh god, that's it, right there, oh god, oh you're good, oh yeah, oh christ, oh yeah, oh! Oh god!" Angela's hips bucked uncontrollably as she came, screaming out her pleasure so loudly that the next rooms heard every hysterical word.

Drusilla let her down gently, kissing the inside of her thighs gently, then pulling away and turning to Spike, a child's grin of achievement on her face, contrasting with the rather adult wetness smeared over her face.

Spike and David sat there, both of them attempting to hide erections. Spike frowned, the tight jeans constricting. David didn't bother to hide it, the bedsheets crumpled up around his thighs.

Spike cleared his throat, about to say something, when Angie stood up, grinning. "Time to wash off the dye!' she said cheerfully, as if nothing had happened.

 

"All the nightmares came today...and it looks as though they're here to stay..." — Oh You Pretty Things

David understood one night stands. One night of glorious passion and then he would never have to see the person again. The only person he saw longer than that was Angela...and even she was beginning to wear thin.

Spike and Drusilla had been around for three months. And David couldn't explain it. Amid the personal assistants, recording artists, band members, executives, celebrities, and other debris he had collected over the tour, the pale couple had always been there, Spike befriending the band and Drusilla finding a companion in Zowie, David and Angela's son.

Spike knew how dangerous his situation had become. He had hidden his feeding fastidiously, hunting right after sunset while David was still recording. He always made sure Dru went with him, not trusting her to be as careful as they both needed to be. But when David began to tour, traveling from city to city, hotel to hotel, a continuous lavish party following them everywhere, it was enough to make anyone careless.

This particular night was no different than the others. David walked languidly around the suite, his mind vaguely taking in the sights and sounds of the party. Angela laughed shrilly near him and he winced, his eyes scanning the crowd for Spike. Or even Drusilla. Either one was better than this madness.

"David!" David looked up at the yell and saw the dirty-blond man waving to him from the other side of the room. David slowly weaved his way through the crowd to reach him.

"Ronno! What's going on?" he said, patting the other man's shoulder. "Have you seen Spike?"

Mick shook his head, taking a drink of the beer in his hand. "No...But his girl's in the bedroom...she might know where he is..."

David nodded, then headed towards the main bedroom. He walked by a table covered in a variety of drugs. He paused for a second, bypassing the Quaaludes, but grabbing the bottle of red wine on the table. Spike would enjoy this...

David peered into the lowlit bedroom, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When they did, the two forms lying on the bed became Angie and Drusilla, Angela sitting on the bed between Drusilla's legs. Her head was resting on Dru's shoulder, and Drusilla was kissing her neck, her slender hand cupping Angie's breast.

David rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat. "Dru." Drusilla looked up, her face twisted into a horrific shape, blood dripping from the side of her mouth. Angie laid limply against the vampire, her eyes dreamy and distracted. "Do you..." David trailed off in fear as he looked at her, the bottle slipping from his slack fingers. The bottle shattered on the floor, spilling blood-red wine across the gold-white carpet.

Drusilla laid Angela on the bed gently, smoothing her hair, wiping the blood from her neck with a gentle touch. She then stood, a contented smile stretching across her still contorted face. "Hello, David," she said, purring.

Bile rose in David's throat as he saw Angela lying there, pale and still. He turned on his heel and ran from the room. Spike. He had to find Spike. David rushed through the back rooms of the suite, pausing only when he heard Spike's voice come from a small side room. A feminine giggle followed. David threw open the door, so terrified he didn't care if he interrupted his lover's tryst.

Spike heard the door open, but he was lost in the heartbeat of the girl in his arms. It was too close, too tempting to resist. He leaned in, his mouth opening, but before he could sink his fangs into her neck, a hand gripped his shoulder. Spike snarled, whirling around. His face relaxed back into its normal look as soon as he recognized who it was. But it was too late.

David stumbled back, fear and betrayal mixed on his face. As the two men stared at each other the young girl slipped out, tears running down her face.

"David...I..." Spike searched for words.

David shook his head viciously. "No. You're a monster. You're not...human." Before Spike could say another word, David fled from the room.

Spike sank to the floor, his eyes clenched tight. But no matter how tight he clenched them, his mind was still filled with the hurt and shock in David's eyes.

 

"Fame...What you like is in the limo..." — Fame

David slid into the limo and closed the door tightly, separating himself from the swarming crowd. He leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes.

"David."

David's eyes snapped open and he saw that, for the first time in several weeks, he was alone in the limo. Alone except for the slim figure of his former lover. Terrifyingly alone.

"Where are all the others?" David asked, swallowing nervously.

"They're in the other car. I told them I wanted to see you alone." Spike paused. "I guess you didn't tell them, then," he said, his voice a cool monotone.

"No, I..." David's eyes flashed at the other man. "Who would believe me? 'Oh, yes, you know that bloke who hung around a few months back? Well, he's a...'" He trailed off, his eyes avoiding Spike's intense gaze.

Spike finished the sentence for him. "Vampire."

The two men rode in silence for long minutes. Finally, David spoke up. "Are you..." He stopped himself. "Where is Drusilla?"

"She's off hunting somewhere." Spike paused for a second. "How's your bitch-wife?" he asked conversationally, his voice mocking.

David half-smiled. "She's with Zowie, back at the hotel."

"Drusilla misses her. And Zowie."

There was silence again as Spike tried to think of the right words. David cleared his throat and flicked his eyes to the shade between the seats, watching the blurred lights go by.

"I saw you with a man last night," Spike blurted out. The words thudded in the silence. Spike knew the words were wrong the second he finished. He quickly blanked his expression.

"Were you hunting me?" David asked harshly.

"Did you fuck him? Did you let him fuck you? Was he as good as me?" Spike snarled. David shrank back from Spike's anger, a look of sheer terror crossing his face. Spike's face fell, and he looked down at the floor of the limo. "I'm being such a stupid wanker." He took a drag off the cigarette that had been smoldering in his hand.

"Look...I just..." Spike looked up at David, trying to find the words. "Every vampire has a sire. Another vamp who turned them. And my sire...well, he was a real vicious one. Drusilla..he's the reason she's so off her rocker. He drove her insane before he turned her, raped her and killed everyone she knew." Spike looked back down at his hands. "And she still loves him. Last night...when we made love...she cried out his name."

He smiled sadly. "She cried out his name...after all this time...And seeing you with that man..." Spike shook his head. He pushed himself out of his seat and sat next to David. "I miss you," he finally said, his voice soft.

David edged away from the other man, moving until he hit the door. "B-b-but you're a vampire," he stuttered. "You kill people."

"You're right," Spike said dully. "Last night, I hunted down two teenagers, ripped out their eyes and drained them dry. I rather enjoyed it." He shrugged nonchalantly. "But I also had a million opportunities to kill you." Spike paused. "And I didn't." Spike looked directly at David. "I love you. I've said it before and you didn't take it seriously, but it's all I can offer now."

The car came to a stop, and Spike moved back to the opposite seat. David threw the door open, and rushed out of the car. He was immediately besieged by a group of screaming teenagers. Two girls elbowed their way through the crowd, giggling and squealing as they realized how close they were standing to their idol.

The taller girl thrust her copy of Ziggy Stardust at him, pushing her curly blond hair out of her face. "Ziggy! Will you sign my album?"

David cringed inside, but took her pen and scrawled his name across the cover.

The other girl, whose hair was eerily similar to the first's, suddenly screeched and threw her arms around David. Set off by this display, the other fans pushed in, grabbing at him, pushing him, drowning him in their adoration. He almost fell, but was suddenly pulled from the sea of hands and faces.

Spike threw a young man off of David, then grabbed his hand. "C'mon," he said quietly, pulling him from the crowd and into the hotel, heading straight for the elevators.

Once the two of them were safely in a car, he turned to David. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing. They almost wrecked the bloody car last time." He cleared his throat. "So..." he said, his voice eerily quiet. "You saved me."

Spike grinned. "Guess I did, didn't I? Seems to me you owe me now." He put his arms on either side of David, and leaned in.

"No."

Spike's hands slid up the back of David's glittery shirt. "C'mon, David," he said in a sultry whisper. His hand drifted in a lazy circle on the man's back, then slid around to his chest, David gasping when Spike pinched a nipple.

Suddenly, Spike was no longer in control. David kissed him furiously, pulling the vampire's hips against his in one clean thrust. "I don't owe you anything," David gritted out between frantic kisses. "You made me care about you, you made yourself important to me and then you turn out to be some kind of monster!" His mouth moved to Spike's ear, nibbling on the cold flesh. "You bloody fucking bastard," he breathed before biting the earlobe. He yanked Spike's black t-shirt out of his waistband, exposing the vampire's lean chest to the air.

Spike took in a unnecessary breath as David ran his tongue over Spike's breastbone. "I'm sorry," he whimpered.

David pulled the black shirt from Spike's body and dropped it on the floor of the elevator, wrapping his arms around Spike's neck. David leaned in, pressing his forehead against the other man's. "I missed you," he said, his voice tenderly soft.

It was forgiveness, it was redemption, and in the split-second before David kissed him hungrily Spike felt almost human.

The elevator doors slid open, the speakers chiming.

"Spike!" a loud grating voice screamed from the hallway. Both men shuddered at the sound of Angela at full steam. She strolled into the elevator, her pupils wide. "David! Wherever did you find him?!" The men pulled apart, Spike leaning down to grab his shirt off the floor.

"He found me, Angie," David said quietly. "Where's Zowie?"

"The naughty little boy is with me," Drusilla said, stepping out from where she had been hiding in the shadows, holding the blond child in her arms. "He's asleep," she said tenderly, kissing Zowie's forehead gently. She handed him to the bodyguard by the door, then moved forward, smiling at Spike and David as she ran a slim hand over Angie's shoulder.

"Drusilla," Spike said, his tone warning.

"But I've been good, Spike," Drusilla said, her voice soft and childlike. "I saw this lion on a mountain and Angie was petting it. So I got something to bite and came here."

Angie giggled. "But we were just leaving...so, don't let us keep you." She winked and pulled Drusilla into the open elevator, pushing the two men out.

"Sometimes I remember why I married her," David said as the elevator doors closed. He nodded to the bodyguard. "Put him into bed, will you?" He said, as he leaned in to kiss the boy's cheek.

Spike followed David into the suite, across the spacious living room and into the bedroom. The two men stood in the doorway, looking at each other, the air between them crackling with tension. Neither moved. Neither dared move, not wishing to break the stillness, to crack the amber-thick moment of forgiveness and sheer lust. They continued to stare at each other, until, finally, the tension broke.

"Fuck," David whispered, slamming the door and throwing Spike up against it. He captured Spike's mouth in a rough, vicious kiss, his tongue thrusting between Spike's cool lips. His hands moved from Spike's shoulders to his hips, pulling his body to him, rubbing his hard cock against Spike's thigh. His fingers slid under his waistband, tightening around the other man's hipbones, hard enough to leave bruises...on a living man.

Spike moaned low in his throat, his lips sliding across David's slowly. His body thrust against his lover's, his hands clutching at David's shoulders tightly.

David pulled away, sneering as he pulled Spike away from the door. He leaned against the door as he flattened his palms on Spike's shoulders, slowly pushing the other man down to his knees.

Spike fell to his knees, his hands moving over David's chest as he fell, his fingers eventually settling on the knot tying David's pants together. The knot was quickly undone, David's pants falling onto the ground with a barely audible thump.

Spike grinned viciously, leaning in to softly kiss David's hard cock, his cool lips barely grazing the heated skin. He pulled back for a second, his eyes looking up at David's face with a mock innocent look.

David snarled and grabbed Spike's head, pushing his mouth against his throbbing cock.

Spike smiled against the flesh, his mouth opening, taking David's cock inside. The heat burned his mouth deliciously, and he opened his mouth wider, taking it further and further down his throat.

David's head fell back against the door, his hips thrusting harder and harder into the moist coolness surrounding him. It was too fucking good...It was almost too much...It would be too much...

David groaned as he came, pulling out of Spike's mouth to shoot all over the pale sculpted face. He slumped back against the door, panting heavily.

Spike stood slowly, one hand wiping the come from his face. He rubbed it between his fingers in an almost introspective manner for a few seconds, apparently deep in thought, then reached for David's shoulders, throwing him onto the large bed.

David fell onto the soft bedding, bracing himself with his arms, gasping for breath. Spike walked slowly to the bed, unbuttoning his leather pants. "You had your fun," he growled, pulling his pants from his body. "It's my turn now."

David felt Spike settle his cool body against his own, Spike's cock hard against his back. A well-lubricated finger muscled its way up his ass, Spike's hand pausing for a moment before a second joined it. Spike bent over, his lips pressing against David's ear. "Mine..." he whispered just as the head of his cock touched David's ass. "All mine..." He thrust, slowly pressing himself into David.

David moaned, his hips bucking backwards to meet Spike, pushing Spike further into him. Spike grabbed a hold of David's hips, holding the man still as he thrust into David faster and faster. He had missed this for so long, had missed the feeling of David's ass tight and hot around him...Drusilla was so fucking cold, moist and damp and clingy....this was perfect...this was bloody wonderful...

Spike shouted as he came, his hips giving one hard thrust. He slid off of David and toppled onto the bed in a haze. He laid on the bed, dazed.

"Iggy's too spastic to fuck," David said softly.

Spike lifted his head, jolted back into reality. "What?"

"He's too spastic. Iggy....Jim...the man you saw me with... I think it's the heroin..." David grabbed a pillow and snuggled up against it. "Spike..." he said, his voice sleepy.

"Yeah?"

"What were you saying?"

"What?"

"Before you fucked me..." David stifled a yawn. "You said something...but you said it in my bad ear..."

Spike closed his eyes. "Nothing. It was nothing, David. Go to sleep."

 

"I'll be a rock-n-rollin' bitch for you..." — Moonage Daydream

"Ziggy" finished his song and rushed offstage, his dilated eyes darting feverishly, searching for Spike. Spike was off to the side, leaning against a wall, smiling in that smirking way of his. His eyes caught David's and he opened his arms.

David rushed to him, kissing him roughly, his colorful makeup smearing off in their combined sweat. Smudges of red and purple spread over Spike's face as he quickly opened the glittery vest of David's stage outfit, running a hand underneath, intense wet heat against his cool skin. The other hand grabbed David's hip roughly, pulling him closer.

Grinding himself against Spike's cool body, David grinned sharply as he felt Spike's rigid erection pressing against him. He surreptitiously looked around, making sure the technicians were currently occupied, and quickly dropped to his knees. His long slender fingers unlaced Spike's pants, then reached inside, wriggling around until they were loosely gripping Spike's cock.

"Suck it, David," Spike snarled, thrusting into David's hand. "C'mon, pet."

"Impatient bastard," David muttered, grinning up at the vampire. He then leaned in, engulfing Spike's cock in his burning hot mouth. The tip butted against the back of his throat, causing him to gag. He pulled back and grinned sheepishly, looking up at Spike. "Hand job then, luv? My throat's all scratched from the show."

Spike looked at him with something akin to shock, dismay, and incredible frustration all rolled into one. He heard a technician snicker and saw another hide a smile.

David looked at him innocently for a few seconds, then burst into giggles. "You're so bloody gullible, darling."

Spike growled roughly, and David, with a mock sigh, relented, sliding him back into his mouth, gently scraping his teeth along the underside of Spike's cock. Within just a few minutes, Spike's hips were falling and rising with each sweep of David's tongue. Suddenly, two teenagers emerged from the shadows, their eyes growing wide as they saw the tableau before them. Shocked nervous giggles alerted Spike to their presence and he touched David's shoulder. David paused for an instant, his eyes shifting over to the two girls, then went back to his rhythmic bobbing. Spike groaned, grabbing the back of David's head and holding his nose to his stomach as he came, pushing further and further down David's throat until he finally went slack.

The two girls continued to stare in shock, the taller one mumbling incoherently. "Uh...uh....hm....erm...uh..."

David let Spike's softening cock slip from his mouth and tenderly wiped his lips with the corner of his faux fur boa. "Right then," he said, not standing. "I'm guessing you two want an autograph?"

"Erm...uh....huh...." The taller girl continued to be incoherent, holding out her album. David took it, standing up smoothly and grabbing a pen from a nearby table. "So, did you girls enjoy the show tonight?" he asked nonchalantly. He gave a quick wink at Spike, who was slowly lacing up his pants.

"Guh...uh...erm...I..." The girl stared at him goggle-eyed, the frosted blue eyeshadow smudged, the pale foundation running, revealing the cliche California girl tan underneath.

David sighed. "Nevermind. What's your name, luv?"

The girl finally awoke from her haze. "Joyce," she said in a nervous trembly voice. "I'm Joyce," she said, a bit more loudly.

David signed the record with a flourish, then handed it to the girl. Her bright red glossy lips curved into a weak smile and she quickly ran off with her friend.

"You're cheeky tonight, pet," Spike said with a sly smile.

David just smiled widely, looking down at Spike's hips. "What's this?" he said, placing one fingertip over the new tattoo. He slowly slid Spike's pants down further to see all of it.

Spike looked down at the red and blue lightening bolt weaving down the line of his hipbone. "Like it? I got it earlier today."

David's fingers followed it down. "It must have hurt," he said, his voice filled with the wonder that only the innocent and the extremely high can achieve.

Spike shrugged. "It was nothing," he said, then broke into a vicious grin. "You kissed it and made it all better..."

David looked back up at Spike, his eyes glinting evilly. "And you say I'm cheeky," he said teasingly. He wrapped an arm around Spike's waist. "Let's see what I can find for you to kiss and make better..."

 

"I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry." — Magic Dance

Angie stumbled across the entryway of the hotel room, leaning heavily on Drusilla. "Shhhh...We have to be quiet," she said loudly, her voice echoing through the hallway. "Don't want to wake the baby. Or the husband. Or the Spike." She giggled absently, then her face paled suddenly. "Oh no!" she said, her voice growing worried. "We have to check on the baby! Yes..." she said, her words slurring. "The baby needs to be taken care of."

"He's asleep," Drusilla said in a low whisper.

"No, no..." Angie replied, shaking her head rapidly, her earrings clanking loudly. "We need to check on him. He's my baby. He needs his mummy."

She slowly made her way to Zowie's room, stopping frequently to steady herself, supporting herself on the walls. "Where's my baby?" she trilled, flipping the nearby light switch. "Let's give Mummy a kiss."

Zowie slowly woke up, blinking sleepily at the sudden light. He grabbed a hold of his favorite toy instinctively.

Angie grabbed onto the bars of his crib, shaking them slightly as she grinned at her son. "How's Mummy's baby then?" she cooed as she reached into the crib to pick him up

Zowie cringed, trying to pull away from his mother. Swinging him up into her arms, she covered his face with sloppy kisses, her breath rank with alcohol. He pushed her face away, not liking the smell.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Angie cooed, ruffling his already tousled blond hair.

Drusilla wrung her hands together nervously. "He's asleep, Angie," she said, her voice worried. "Let him sleep." Her voice grew pleading. "Let's go in the other room. We can have cake and tea."

Angie shook her head stubbornly. "No, I want him to give me a kiss. Just one tiny little kiss from my baby boy." Holding the small boy at arm's length, she began to spin around. "It's fun, isn't it, Zowie?" The boy's face crumpled and he began to wail.

"He doesn't like that, Angie," Drusilla said sharply. "I want to go to the other room."

"He likes it! Don't you?" Angie laughed as she spun around the room. The child struggled against her grip, sobbing. "Be quiet, Zowie. I know you like it," she said, her voice harsh, shaking him to accentuate her words.

The boy continued to sob, his face red and tear-streaked. "Shut up!" she yelled. Zowie only cried louder. Angie groaned and plopped him back into the crib, towering over him as she scolded him. "Don't cry...it hurts Mummy's ears." When his shrieks didn't stop, she drew back her hand.

Drusilla moved quickly, her face changing as she walked. She grabbed Angie's hand, whirling the woman around and throwing her against the wall.

Angie's eyes widened at Drusilla's face, her already pale complexion draining of color. "Dru...," she breathed. "What's wrong with you?"

Dru's face smoothed out and she stalked towards the still figure on the floor. Reaching out her hand, she helped Angie rise, but kept her close to the wall. "I want to go into the other room," she said, her voice light. "And I want you to leave Zowie alone..." Her tone grew menacing. "Or I'll make you bleed, pretty blood all over the nice white carpet." She brought her hand up to Angie's face, softly tracing a cheekbone with a single razor-edge fingernail.

"Your face," Angie said, faltering. "What was wrong with your face?" Drusilla cut off her questions, sliding her mouth over the other woman's. Angie pulled back, but Drusilla was persistent, coaxing her mouth open and sliding her tongue inside.

Moments later, Angie was clinging to Drusilla, whimpering as the vampire cupped her breasts in her delicate hands. Dru pulled away after a minute, her eyes shining victoriously. "Go in the other room."

"But..I..I want...."

"I know." She stroked Angie's hair gently. "I'll be with you in a minute. And then I'll give you...exactly what you want." Angie gasped as Drusilla scraped her nails over her upper arms, then quickly hurried out of the room, already untying the straps of her halter top and unzipping her skirt.

Drusilla licked her lips, then walked over to Zowie's crib. "Dwu!" Zowie reached his hands out towards her.

Dru smiled tenderly at the child. "Shhh....." She tucked his blanket back over him and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Dru won't let your Mummy hurt you. She's a very bad Mummy." She paused. "But she's also very pretty." She drifted away, flicking off the light switch, plunging the room into darkness.

 

"When it's good, it's really good, and when it's bad I go to pieces" — Candidate

They had been traveling for weeks. A concert here, a concert there, then on the road again, woods and farmlands blurring together in an endless haze.

Angie sat nervously, perched on the edge of the train seat, alternating between biting her lip and chain smoking. After half an hour of her nervous twitching, David finally cleared his throat, looked at her levelly, and spoke. "What's the matter now?"

"Nothing," she said with a slight sigh.

"Nothing?" He turned to Mick. "Nothing?" he said to the shaggy guitarist. He looked back at Angie, raising an eyebrow, a mean, slick smile spreading across his lips. "Nothing? Tra la la." He paused for a moment, waiting for her reaction, then sighed. "Angie, you've almost bitten through your lip...Dru will be out here in a moment, maybe you could talk to her..." He paused again. "You haven't talked to her for weeks...She has to be bored, spending all her time with Zowie..."

She instinctively shuddered, then shook her head violently. "No!" she said loudly. He looked up at her sharply and she continued. "I...I'm...I don't..." she stammered. She took a deep drag off of her cigarette and looked up at him, her eyes bleak. "I'm afraid of her, David," she said flatly. "There's something wrong with her." She looked back down and put out her cigarette. "That night...about a week after we got back, there was something...something was wrong with her face."

David shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Did she have a mole or something, then?" he said, his voice taut.

Angie shot him a poisonous glare. "No, it was like a mask, with ridges..." She held up her hands. "And these...burning yellow eyes."

David slowly reached for a cigarette, turning it over in his hands for a minute. "Angie," he said, his voice calm. "You were out of your mind on coke that night. You're out of your mind on coke most nights." He looked directly at her. "I haven't seen anything wrong with Dru," he said, his voice almost commanding. "Or Spike, for that matter."

"Spike's too good of a fuck for you to notice, you mean," she said snidely. She turned to the blonde man beside him. "Ronno, what do you think?"

The blonde man crooked an eyebrow lazily, then shrugged nonchalantly. "The girl's fried, but harmless. Spike's a right bloke."

Angie shook her head dazedly. "I just..I guess..." She sighed. "I must have imagined it. It was so real, though...I just..." She trailed off as she looked out the window into the evening dusk, the last traces of the sun slipping beneath the horizon.

"You just what?" Spike walked into the cabin and walked up to their seat, his arm slung around Dru's shoulders.

David smiled at Spike, then lit his cigarette. "Angie thinks there's something wrong with Dru," he said, smirking nastily. "Something with her face."

"I think she talks too much," Drusilla muttered, glaring hatefully at Angie. Her expression quickly softened and she smiled, kneeling down so she was eye level with Angie. "What's wrong with me?" she lilted in a sing-song voice.

Angie glanced self-consciously at the two men, then spoke in a low tone. "Dru, baby, that night. The night you yelled at me. In the house. There was...there was something wrong with your face."

"There wasn't anything wrong with me," Dru said innocently. "I'm sorry I hurt you. But you were scaring Zowie." Drusilla leaned forward, leaving a trail of tiny kisses along Angie's hairline. "I want to..." she trailed off, giving Angie an impish look before standing up and leaving the cabin.

Angie stood up, brushing past David and Spike. She hesitated briefly, looking at the two men with a worried look, but Dru glanced back and beckoned to her. Shakingly, she closed her eyes tightly, then hurried after the vampire, following her through the connecting door.

She walked into the darkened car, trying to catch sight of Dru, but to no avail. Suddenly, long, slender hands covered her eyes and she gasped, half shrieking, as Dru pulled her closer. The brunette trailed kisses down her throat, sliding her hands down from Angie's eyes to cup her breasts.

In the other car, Spike glanced at David out of the corner of his eye. The other man was staring out the window, oblivious, and Spike took the chance to slip away, following the two women, going towards the adjoining car.

Drusilla gently turned Angie around, pulling the blonde's blouse over her head. Angie's nipples puckered in the chill air, and Drusilla leaned down, her lips circling one of them. Angie whimpered, then opened her eyes as she heard the door open.

Spike walked in, his eyes lovingly taking in the scene in front of him. Angie looked directly at him, and winked, both eyes suddenly clenching shut as Drusilla's hands moved from around her waist to sliding into her pants.

Spike walked behind her, gazing at the smooth curves of Angie's exposed back. He trailed his lightly callused fingertips down the sides of her body, moving inward to trace delicately up her spine. She moaned and Dru released her nipple, standing and resting her head on Angie's shoulder. "Spike-y," she whispered, too low for Angie to hear her.

Spike looked at her, not stopping his gentle caresses. "What, princess?" he replied, his voice just as soft.

Drusilla threaded her hands through Angie's hair, kissed the woman's forehead, then moved her head to Angie's other shoulder. Spike smiled at Drusilla, grinding his hips against Angie. The woman squealed, pressing back against him. "I don't like her," Dru finally said, unbuttoning Angela's pants and sliding them down with her panties, her fingers gently moving up the inside of Angie's thighs. "Can we kill her?" Drusilla said plaintively.

Spike shook his head, kissing the top of Dru's head. "But we can scare her."

They both smiled viciously, Spike closing the distance between their mouths, kissing his lover passionately. "We don't need her anymore," he whispered against Dru's lips.

Drusilla broke the kiss and dropped her mouth back to Angie's chest. Her face shifted and she sank her fangs into the tender flesh between Angie's breasts. Angie screamed, her arms trying to move, trying to push Dru off, but Spike forced her head back, spearing his tongue into her mouth. With his other hand, he held her arms behind her back, grasping her wrists firmly, holding her immobile.

Drusilla drank her fill, then kissed a bloody trail up Angie's chest, her face still contorted. Spike pulled away from Angie, keeping only his hand around her wrists. Dru leaned in to kiss Angie, grabbing her face when she twisted away. She held the blonde's jaw and she kissed her, her wet, bloody lips running over Angie's, leaving streaks of Angie's blood across her face, across her lips, inside her mouth.

Hot tears ran down Angie's cheeks, and she gagged at the harsh coppery taste. Drusilla released her mouth, and she butted her head back, hitting Spike in the nose. He growled, his face shifting. Angie screamed again, backing further into the car until she ran into a row of seats. Sobs racked her fashionably thin body as she held her hands out in front of her in a feeble attempt at protection.

Drusilla ducked her head, her body as fluid as a snake as she stalked Angie. The connecting door opened and the two vampires quickly spun around, their faces still transformed.

"What's going on here?" a voice said from the doorway.

Drusilla pouted, pushing her lower lip out as her face shifted back into its normal look. "We were playing and then she started screaming..." she said in a petulant voice.

Angie ran to David, pressing her face into his chest. "I told you there was something wrong with her!" she shrieked. "And him, too!"

"Of course there is, you silly twit," David said, sounding bored. "Did you ever once notice that the girl you've been fucking for months didn't have a heartbeat?"

He turned to Spike, his expression grim. "I thought you said you weren't going to hurt us."

Spike shrugged fluidly. "I said I wasn't going to hurt you." He fished in his breast pocket for a cigarette and slowly lit it. "We weren't going to hurt her anyway, luv, just scare her." He grinned slowly. "She was going to find out anyway, why not make it fun?"

"David!" Angela's voice was hysteric. "Aren't you going to call someone for help?"

David curled his lip in disgust, then pushed his wife away from him. "Who the hell would I call?"

Spike smiled nastily at Angie, then moved closer to David, stroking the man's cheek. Angie watched wide-eyed as David turned and kissed Spike, his fingers running lightly over the hard ridges.

"You're crazy. You're all fucking crazy," she whispered.

David turned to regard her, taking in her smeared mascara, disheveled hair and bare breasts. "You're the one who looks crazy," he said sharply. "I'll tell you what. You do what you have to do, Angie. You go get help against the vampires. And I'll come visit you in the asylum, okay?" He chuckled dryly, Drusilla moving behind him and slipping an arm around his waist.

Angie quickly pulled her blouse back on, glaring at him as he continued.

"Or what if we do this? You keep your stupid little mouth shut. It'll be hard, I imagine, but I know you're up to it." His voice was cool, disdainful. "I'll keep Spike and Dru away from you and you can go about your everyday business of being the wife of a 'big rock star', keeping yourself stocked in cocaine and alcohol. How's that sound?" Taking her silence as agreement, he smiled, a bitter, angry smile. "Good," he said crisply. "I suppose we won't be seeing you much then." The threesome turned to go.

Angela stood there, bedraggled and furious. "What if?" she cried out harshly. "What if she decides she doesn't like Zowie next? Or Mick? Or you?" She glared at him, her eyes shining with hatred. "What if they decide to play with you?"

David tensed. "I'm not like you, Angie," he said flatly, firmly, finally. "And I never will be." He straightened, still keeping his back to her. "So there's no danger." He started walking again, the trio going through the connecting door, leaving Angela behind.

 

"Should I kiss the viper's fang Or herald loud the death of Man.." — Quicksand

David strolled back into the main cabin, each arm wrapped around a vampire.

Spike looked at his lover curiously. "You all right, David?" he asked quietly.

David smiled, the smile of the foolish, the ecstatic, the terrified. "Yes. No. I don't know." His voice grew quiet. "Were you really going to kill her?"

"I was thinking about it..." Dru said in a small childlike voice. "She doesn't like to play anymore..."

Spike leaned over and gently kissed Dru on her forehead. "Luv," he said quietly. "Why don't you go and see if Zowie's awake?"

"I don't know where he is....the train keeps moving..."

David looked towards the man sitting on the plush couch. "Mick knows where he is, don't you, Ronno?"

The man looked up. "What?" He looked at Dru, then at the obviously impatient men in front of him. "Oh, right...." he said, his voice knowing. He slowly stood. "C'mon then. Let's go find Zowie..."

Drusilla grinned. "The cheeky little monkey is hiding from me," she said, grabbing Mick's hand and pulling him out of the cabin.

Mick walked out of the cabin, shooting a final glance at David and Spike.

David frowned. "Do you think Ronno and Dru have...?"

Spike shrugged. "Probably. Does it matter?" He wrapped his arms around the other man.

David shook his head. "Not in the slightest," he said before capturing Spike's mouth in a rough kiss.

Spike returned David's kiss, then ran his lips over David's cheek, stopping when his eyes ran over the large mirrored wall. In the mirror, David was alone, wanting, needing. Spike smiled sharply and wrapped his arms tighter around David, pushing him towards from the mirror.

David grunted as his back landed against the wall. He grabbed the sides of Spike's face, pulling him in for another rough kiss. Spike's hands slid over David's body, running down his chest, slipping under his shirt.

David moaned into Spike's mouth as Spike's fingers gently pinched his nipples. He retaliated by grasping Spike's semihard cock through his jeans, rubbing his thumb in a circular pattern on the head of his cock.

Spike moaned, thrusting against David's hand. David grinned, gently biting the soft skin underneath Spike's jaw. Spike growled low in his throat, his hands gripping David's hips, pressing the other man against him. Spike could feel David's hardness against his thigh, pressing through his skintight pants.

David kissed Spike again, sliding his tongue over Spike's cool lips. His hot mouth moved over Spike's face, resting at his ear. "How do you want it?" he breathed into Spike's ear. He sucked on Spike's ear as his hands undid the other man's pants and reached inside.

Spike groaned loudly. "Christ," he said roughly. He yanked David onto the couch, bending him over the armrest. He pulled off David's platform shoes, tossing them onto the floor, then pulled down his pants, leaving David nude except for his thin shirt.

Spike's hands slid over David's bare ass, pressing a single finger against his anus. David moaned softly, thrusting back against Spike. Spike stepped back for just a second, grabbing a bottle of baby oil. He dripped it over David, then slathered it on his hand. His slick fingers slid against David, one slipping in with ease. He added a second almost as easily, David moaning as it slid in up to the knuckle.

"You want it, don't you?" Spike growled into David's ear, bending over, pressing his cock against David.

David groaned, pressing back. "Fuck, yes," he whispered roughly.

Spike grinned, squirting lube on his twitching cock before sliding up against his lover's puckered opening. With a minimum of effort, he entered David, easily pushing his way in. He groaned as David relaxed, sucking him in.

Spike thrust quickly and roughly, accenting every instroke with a faint grunt, rubbing against the other man, his eyes closed tightly, thrusting into the hot sweetness that was David. He was getting closer and closer, harder and harder, it was wonderful, it was exquisite, and sweet Jesus, it was just fucking good.

Spike shouted as he came, bucking his hips fast into David's ass as he exploded, squeezing his eyes shut as the pleasure ripped through him. He fell backwards, slipping out of David and stared at the ceiling for a moment in shock.

David slid down from the armrest, his head lying back, his eyes closed shut as he slowly stroked his hard cock. Spike, after recovering, stared at his lover in sheer admiration, taking in the sight.

"Want some help with that, darling?" Spike said before pushing David's hand aside and taking his cock into his mouth.

David groaned, thrusting his hips up, running his hands through Spike's hair. Spike was so cool, so wonderful, it was amazing, it was delicious, it was so fucking good...

He felt himself get closer and closer, his hips thrusting up, pushing his cock further down Spike's throat, rolling his head on the armrest of the coach. He was almost there, almost there, his eyes opened and looked at the mirror.

He was alone. In the mirror, he was alone, his cock thrusting into air, his hands grasping nothing. He came, staring at nothing, fear grasping at his heart.

 

"She'll scratch this world to pieces as she comes on like a friend" — Song for Bob Dylan

The party was screeching in his ears, screaming and shouting and crashing all together like a train wreck of decadence.

He hated it.

Mick Ronson grabbed a bottle of vodka off of the table and took

a long swig from it, wincing slightly at the burn, but enjoying it a little too well. He walked from the main room into one of the side bedrooms of the suite, closing the door behind him, dampening the sound from outside.

He blinked for a few seconds, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, then started when he saw the other person in the room. "Oh, uh, sorry," he said apologetically. "Didn't know anyone was in here."

Drusilla looked up from her huddle on the bed. "I was daydreaming...I can't go out in the day..." She lifted her thin hands towards the thick curtain draped over the window. "I really can't remember last time...I saw the light of day."

Mick frowned. "Where's Angie?"

She turned towards him, her large eyes shining in the darkness. "Out there..." she said softly. "In the light. Like a golden gorgeous sun creature..."

Mick nodded slowly. "Right." He looked towards the chair sitting in the corner. "Mind if I sit?"

Drusilla shrugged slightly, her hands returning to her shoulders, grasping tightly. Mick sat down, took another drink, and studied the thin woman in front of him.

"I had a vision about you..." she said in a quiet voice.

Mick raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he said, vaguely curious.

Drusilla stared at him, her eyes old and knowing. "You're going to die," she breathed quietly.

A trickle of fear ran down Mick's spine, but he grinned drunkenly. "Everyone dies," he said.

"Not everyone dies young."

Mick took a deep breath, and realized suddenly he only heard his breath in the stillness of the room. "I...I'm too old to die young..."

Drusilla smiled, a sweet sad smile, and crawled on the bed over to face him, on her hands and knees before him, peering at him as he squirmed slightly in the chair. "It'll be cancer..." she whispered. She sat up, staring directly at him. "You'll waste away and everyone will sigh and cluck their tongues and say, 'Such a shame, he was so young...'" She stood, crossing the short space between them and sitting on his lap, grasping his chin before leaning down for a short sharp kiss.

Mick chuckled. "So how're you going to die?" he asked, half-jokingly.

She smiled bitterly as her fingernails traced over his lips. "I'm already dead," she whispered into his ear and he felt for the first time the harsh chill of her fingers as they scraped his soft skin. "Dead and buried," she went on. "And mummy cried dry tears in her own grave."

"You're crazy."

She giggled and ducked her head to his neck, but did not, he noticed, deny it. She slid those cold spidery hands up underneath his shirt and scraped his nipples and he shuddered.

Her cool lips pressed against his neck, her tongue flicking out to trace along his vein. "I can give you things," she said against his heated skin. "Things that Spike doesn't touch anymore...touch...or see...or taste..." She squirmed against his lap, rubbing against his erection.

"Is that what I am?" Mick said roughly, angling his hips slightly to feel even more of her against him. "Revenge?"

"You're all you want to be..." Drusilla said, sliding down between his legs, unbuttoning his pants, pulling his cock out slowly. She rubbed her cheek against it. "You could be in me...and then you wouldn't have to think..." She ran her tongue lightly down one side of his cock, then pulled back to watch his face.

He closed his eyes tightly, letting the bottle of vodka fall unheeded to the bed. Drusilla leaned forward and took the first few inches of his cock into her mouth, sucking gently. When he moaned, she let him slide out of her mouth and sat back on her heels.

He blinked.

She smiled and rose quickly, slipping the straps of her thin black silk dress off of her shoulders as she straddled him again. His rough hands helped her, pushing the top down until her breasts were fully exposed, the soft pink nipples pebbled and hard.

Mick lowered his shaggy blond head to her breasts, flicking his warm tongue across her pink nipples. She growled and ground against him. He shifted his hips and penetrated her slightly, sliding out again when she moved. He bit his lip in frustration and tried again, holding her hips in his hands. Drusilla smiled and kept still as he pushed up inside her, then rose slightly as his grip slackened. She lowered herself back down and whimpered at the pleasure, her head thrown back.

Neither noticed when the door creaked open, the small ray of sunlight slowly widening until its golden light covered Drusilla's naked back. She hissed in pain and dove for the shadows, curling up into a fetal position, her hands covering her face.

Angie strode into the room. She was wearing a bright gold lame dress, and her bleached hair was backlit by the sunlight streaming in from the door.

"Mick," she said sadly, shaking her head, "I thought you were better than...that." She glanced balefully at Drusilla's prone form. "Really, Mick, she's not just sloppy seconds, she's sloppy...what is it now, Dru? Thirds? Fourths, maybe?" She laughed tinnily.

"I'll rip you open," Dru hissed. "I'll eat your eyeballs, you little whore."

Angela laughed again and narrowed her eyes. "You're sick, Dru. A sick, sad, insignificant bitch."

"David told you to stay away from us." Mick simply sat there frozen, his eyes glancing between the two women as they spoke.

"David," Angie enunciated carefully, "is presently fucking the brains out of your boyfriend. I don't think he gives a shit about what I do, or what happens to you...Face it, Dru, you've been left behind. By everyone. And although Ronno here is kind enough to throw you a mercy fuck, I'm not going to let him lower himself."

Lowering her voice, she leaned forward, speaking so only Dru could hear her. " I don't care what you are. Or what David says. You don't scare me." Her pupils were wide and glassy, her voice unnaturally sharp. She'd been having fun at the party.

Drusilla growled deep in her throat, unable to touch the mortal while she stood within the sunlight. "I'm going to make you bleed, bleed bleed bleed till your pretty blonde hair goes red like David's."

"Of course you are, sweetie." Angie smiled brightly and straightened up again. "C'mon, Mick." She tugged the unresisting man into a standing position, then threaded her arm through his. He coughed and adjusted his clothing, casting an apologetic look at Drusilla.

Angie pulled him through the door and shut it firmly behind her, already calling out across the room about "that horrible dowdy slut and would you believe who she thought she could have?"

 

"Ain't got time for charity(this skeleton's mine)" — Video Crime

Angie awoke with a jolt, her heart racing. She fumbled across the bed to the nightstand and quickly inhaled the line of coke she had left from the night before. She fell back against the bed, the rush making everything clear and yet cloudy at the same time.

Playful shrieks came from the main room, startling her out of her reverie. She attempted to push the covers aside, but quickly became entangled in the dress and feathered coat she had passed out in. After a few minutes, she extricated herself from her clothing and the bedding, rubbing her eyes blearily, smearing the glittered eyeliner over most of her face. She stepped onto the floor, her rail-thin nude body swaying slightly as she walked through the door.

She walked towards the giggles and shrieks from the main room, her fingers trailing along the walls, her processed blonde hair standing out in all directions. She was trash, she was all used up with nowhere to go. And it was fabulous.

Drusilla and Zowie were sprawled out on the floor, playing with marbles. The green and blue and clear glass balls rolled all over the smooth wooden floor. Drusilla's shot went wild as Angela entered the room, rolling oddly past the other marbles and eventually ending up under the couch. Zowie clapped his hands and giggled happily. Drusilla gave him a mock glare. "You be quiet or I'll eat you all up."

Zowie clapped his hands over his mouth, but the childish giggles still escaped. Drusilla crawled over to him, her long purple gauzy dress tangling about her as she approached him. "You bad bad boy..." she purred as she came directly up to him, her mouth open and predatory. "You're very naughty." She snapped at his nose with her teeth, almost grazing him, then pulled back, smiling. "It's your turn now, Zowie..."

"Are you two having fun?" Angela asked sharply, striding over to her son and picking him up. "And his name is Duncan. Zowie Bowie is a stupid name."

Zowie laughed as his mother held him, his eyes sparkling. He held up his fist to her. "Look, Mummy, a marble! Dwu gave it to me!"

"I can't see it if you hide it, sweetie," Angela said nicely. She gently pushed his fist open and peered at the smooth orb in his hand. After a second, she plucked it from his chubby hand and held it closer to her eyes. She screamed and dropped it suddenly as a bright blue pupil stared sightlessly up at her.

She shuddered violently, dropping Duncan to the floor. His face crumpled in pain and he began to wail. "Dwu!" he cried out.

Drusilla flew to him, wrapping him in a comforting hug. She rocked him back and forth slowly, stroking his curly blond hair until his sobs subsided. Her eyes moved up Angela's nude body, reaching her face in a cold, vicious gaze. "You made Zowie cry..." she said, her voice threateningly chilly.

Angela held down the blind panic threatening to overtake her and glared back at the other woman. "He's my son and I'll do with him as I damn well please! I told you last night, I'm not afraid of you." She swallowed convulsively, not as brave sober as she had been high.

Drusilla held the young boy tighter to her and she stared down Angela. "Why don't you just leave?" she said, her voice cool and calculating. "Zowie doesn't want you....David hates you....You're nothing...You've been left behind, Angie." She moved away from Zowie and stood, straightening proudly. "You are a bad Mummy..." she said, her voice filled with disdain.

She placed one hand on Angela's bare sternum. "I can feel your bones underneath your skin," she said before sliding that hand around her neck. "I wonder what it would be like to see them..." Her other hand moved towards Angela's face, stroking her eyebrows. "You....you can stay if you want...." She pulled back suddenly and smiled a lethal razor-sharp smile. "I do need new marbles." She ran off to play with Zowie.

 

"She took his ring, took his babies..." — Young Americans

"You look like shit, David." Angela stalked into the room, still naked.

David looked up from the black leather armchair, his eyes hazy from lack of sleep. "Why don't you put that away?" He motioned at her nude form. " No one wants to see it."

"Fuck you." Coming closer to him, she spat the words out. " How much cocaine did you do last night? Hmm, you've got that straw so far up your nose I can't even see it anymore."

"Probably as much as you did." He inhaled from his cigarette. "Do you have a purpose in talking to me? Because I'm beginning to get bored."

"Fuck you! Fuck you, David." She rushed at him, turning abruptly aside. "Just...fuck you. I'm leaving." She straightened proudly. " I'm sick of this, I'm sick of Spike and Drusilla and everything."

" Fine. Leave."

Angie crossed her arms over her breasts. "Just like that?"

"I never said I loved you. You said you were fine with that. If you want to leave, leave. I don't care anymore."

"Fuck off, David."

"That's just your wittiest line, isn't it?"

She turned on her heel, exiting the room. A few minutes later, she returned, dressed in a long, loose black dress. Her face was free of makeup, her bleached hair pulled back. "I'm leaving now." David continued reading his magazine. "Did you hear me?! I said I was leaving!"

"What do you want, money? Fine, we've got plenty of it now that I'm a 'big rock star'." He reached in his pocket, pulling out a few coins. "We're penniless, you idiot. If you're sick of Spike, you're sick of this lifestyle. He's been supporting us."

Angie picked at her dress, her face an icy mask. "You know what's going to happen with Spike, don't you? He's going to stay young forever, and you're going to get older and older."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes. You're going to be a no talent hack with crazy hair who sings his songs for homeless people in rundown pubs." Her voice rose. "And I'm going to come and laugh at you and your pathetic wrinkled makeup spackled face."

David finished smoking his cigarette, inhaling and exhaling deliberately. " Are you finished?" She nodded. "Good. The only one being laughed at here is you. You know what you are? You're bloody transparent. Behind the fake English accent-and believe me, everyone knows it's fake-and the drugs, and your "best friends" that you seem to have every five seconds, you're nothing but an ugly, tactless bitch." He smiled meanly at her, then reached for the remote control, turning on the television behind her.

"I'm taking Duncan, David! This place is too insane for him." He waved dismissively. She snarled internally, then turned on her heel, only to come face to face with Spike and Drusilla.

Drusilla grabbed Angie's throat, pushing her back into the wall. "You're not going to take away my baby, do you hear?"

"He's mine, you crazy bit.." Angie trailed off as Drusilla's grip tightened.

"He's mine, my little baby."

Spike glanced over at David, who was watching the scene passively. "Pet?" Drusilla remained unhearing. "David..."

"What?"

"You don't want this."

"Why not? Why not just get rid of the silly bitch for good?"

Drusilla smiled and slowly raised Angie up so her feet dangled above the floor.

"David, this isn't what you want." David smiled. "Look, I'd just as soon kill her, but when you realize what you've done...you won't love me anymore."

"I never said I loved you."

Spike approached him, finally getting close enough to grip his forearms. "You're right, you didn't, luv. Let me put it another way. A cold, practical way. If you let Dru kill her, you'll go to jail. Dru and I will melt away." David glared at him, then lowered his eyes. "Pet, put her down."

Drusilla pouted prettily, but dropped Angie onto the floor. The bleached blonde rubbed her throat, gasping for breath.

Spike didn't look away from David as he spoke. "Get out of here. You can take Zowie, but if you don't treat him right-if you're a "bad mummy"-I will hunt you down and let Dru kill you."

Angie scrambled to her feet and fled from the room. Minutes later, the door of the suite slammed shut.

"Oh, god..I..I almost..." David's face crumpled and he collapsed into the chair.

"But you didn't."

 

"He punishes hard - was loving her such a crime" — Because You're Young

Spike walked through the elegant suite, stopping to touch the delicate ikebana flower arrangement in the corner. His fingers caressed the orchid's petals, soft like Drusilla's skin. He lifted his fingers to his nose, the mingled scents of the orchid, sandalwood incense, and Drusilla making him calm, meditative, reposed.

He heard a sound from the bedroom and slowly entered the room, his bare feet quiet on the floor. He walked in and shut the door behind him, leaning against the door.

David paced frantically across the room, his thin white chest bare in the low light. He shot a nasty glare at the vampire.

"You were with her, weren't you?" David asked, his voice near-frantic. "I can smell her sickening jasmine on you. You love her more than me, don't you? Don't you!"

Spike calmly lit his cigarette, looking up at the man. "Calm down, David," he said in a soothing voice. "You sound like your bitch wife, for chrissakes." He looked at David defiantly. "Yes, I was with her. So what?"

"You weren't just with her, were you?" David spat out. "You bloody well fucked her!" David continued to pace around the room, waving his arms dramatically. "Am I shagging anyone else? No..I haven't slept with my wife in months..she's not even in the same country as I am!"

Spike sighed in exasperation. "David..." he said quietly. "I love you." He paused for a second before continuing. "And I love Dru."

David spun around quickly, his eyes wild. " No! There is no 'and'! There shouldn't be an 'and'!"

"Well, there is an 'and'." Spike looked levelly at David. "And there always will be an 'and'. That's how it is," he said firmly. "I've always loved Dru. She's a part of me."

"No, you're with her, you're planning with her," David said, resuming his frenetic pacing. "Do you think I wouldn't know? You're going to kill me, just like Angie said...," he broke off, landing on the bed, staring blankly at his trembling hands.

"David," Spike said exasperatedly. "We're not trying to kill you...we wouldn't." He paused for a second, then shrugged. "Well, we would, but we won't." Spike eased himself between David's legs and placed a kiss on his smooth chest, leaving a damp trail across his prominent ribcage. He opened his mouth to reassure David further, but David spoke first, cutting him off.

"I want you," David said desperately, digging his fingers into Spike's shoulders. "Fuck me," he said in a ragged whisper. "Right now."

Spike grinned sharply and shifted, lounging on the bed as David quickly stripped off his pants. His lover lay naked beside him, and, once again, Spike marveled at how thin he was, almost seeing the blood going through the fine lacework of the veins under the nearly translucent skin.

David propped himself up on one elbow and let Spike look, posing almost instinctively. "Well," he said, his voice mocking. "Am I as pretty as her?" He shifted poses, bringing himself to an almost obscene position. "Can you bring yourself to touch me?"

Spike paused with one hand on his zipper, his eyes flashing with anger. "I'll close my eyes and pretend you're her," Spike growled back, unzipping his pants and pushing them down roughly.

"Bastard," David spat out, reaching for his shirt.

Spike threw an arm over David's waist, forcefully pulling the other man close to his naked body. David groaned as Spike sought his lips, biting fiercely at the little notch between his nose and mouth.

David struggled under Spike, but Spike held him down, running his lips over the other man's face as he thrust his lower body against David's. Reaching one arm out, he grabbed the jar of vaseline from the night stand.

He slathered the lubricant over his cock, still holding David down with his other arm. He moved David beneath him, settling himself against the other man.

Both men groaned as Spike thrust inside David, sliding into him deeply on the coating of lubricant. Spike's hands drifted lower as he continued to rock David's body with firm, even thrusts. David sucked in his breath as Spike's cold, slightly slick hand encircled his cock, pumping it slowly.

David closed his eyes and leaned back against his lover's cool chest. "I want...harder, Spike.." he whispered fiercely. The rest of what he was going to say was cut off in a moan as Spike braced his feet against the foot of the bed and slammed home, his hipbones slapping against David's ass. Spike started to pump his lover's cock faster, his strokes matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

David clenched his fists as he came, spilling onto the sheets and over Spike's hand. Spike thrust a few more times and sank his fangs into David's shoulder. The blood flooded into his mouth and he erupted, as close to David in that moment as anyone could be — man, woman, or vampire.

Spike slumped against his lover, the warm blood drying on his lips. After a minute or so of recovery, David spoke in a low voice. "You fed from me..." His hand snaked up to feel the wound in his neck. "But I'm still alive..."

"Yes," Spike said regretfully. "I did."

David was startled by his tone — he'd rarely heard regret in Spike's voice. The vampire slowly pulled out and straightened, pulling the sheet over David and himself. He rolled onto his back and put one arm behind his head, supporting it on the pillow.

David leaned on Spike's chest, one of his hands lightly drifting along his chest. Spike rested his hand on David's shoulder. "I'm sorry about what I said about Drusilla," David said in a quiet voice. "If you love her...you should. And I've never mentioned love, have I? You've said it, but I haven't."

Spike waited for the other man to speak, but David stayed silent. After a few minutes, he spoke. "So, a threesome then, we've done it before, it's fun." He knew his voice sounded forced, deadened, but what could he do?

David chuckled against Spike's chest, his hot breath tickling on cool skin. "I have to go get ready for the concert. If I'm late, the Japanese might commit hari-kiri or something," he said in a mocking voice. "I'll see you later."

He rose from the bed, pulling on his pants and opening the closet to grab a shirt. After a few moments buttoning it up, he was ready. He leaned down, kissing Spike almost tenderly, then headed out the door.

 

"Velvet Goldmine, you stroke me like the rain. Snake it, take it, panther princess, you must stay! Velvet Goldmine, naked on your chain, I'll be your king volcano right for you again and again." — Velvet Goldmine

Drusilla was swaying to music only she could hear in the bedroom, one hand trailing a messy bouquet of cherry blossoms.

"Pet."

She turned, her eyes brightening as she saw Spike. She flew to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

"Oh, Spike, I love it here! Can we stay?"

Spike chuckled and shook his head. "We have to leave, pet, in a few days. You know that. David has to go back to England."

Dru dipped her head. "David has to go back. We can stay."

"But we're his friends, pet. We're going with him."

"He's not my friend." Drusilla pouted prettily, pushing out her lower lip. "He doesn't like to talk to me, I scare him."

"You don't scare him, baby. He's jealous of you."

"Jealous?" She twirled in place. "I like that."

"Don't you want to be a happy family?"

"I remember when we were all happy, Spike. You and I and...my Angel. That was lovely." She sighed, bringing the flowers to her face to inhale their sweet fragrance.

"Yes, just like that. And David thinks we can't be. But I need to show him that we can." He brought out the silver collar from behind his back, the long silver chain trailing from the fine choker. "What do you say? Should we play tonight?"

"With David?" Spike nodded and Drusilla moved away from him, sitting down on the bed. "And I have to wear the collar? Or is it for David? I'd like to see him in it, make him my kitty."

"It's for you, pet. It's too pretty for David."

"I don't want to wear it." She threw the flowers at him viciously, her voice rising. "I won't whore for him! I'm going to eat him! Suck his little body dry."

"Baby..." He walked up to her slowly, dropping to his knees, getting a vague sense of deja vu. "I'm not asking you to be a whore. We'll all have fun, and we'll all be happy. David's sad."

"He's sad?" Her brow furrowed. "I don't want him to be sad, he's nice. He sings to me sometime." Spike rolled his eyes, and pushed her dress further up her thighs.

"You won't eat him, then?" Drusilla shook her head and placed her hands on top of Spike's, encouraging them on. Spike complied, pushing the thin dress to her waist and leaning forward to lick her inner thighs. She sighed and slid downwards on the bench, pressing her wet cleft against his face. He flicked his tongue against her clit, feeling her thighs tighten.

"More, Spike." He complied, sliding two fingers into her as he continued to tease her clitoris. After a few moments, she keened loudly, her inner thighs trembling at the force of her climax. Spike eased upwards, pulling her dress back down over her. She smiled at him and drew his face down. covering it with kisses. "Sweet, beautiful Spike. You make me so happy."

He smiled back at her, then picked up the collar from where he had placed it on the bench. "Will you put the collar on then, pet?"

Her eyes grew clouded and she reached out, plucking flower petals from the folds of her shirt. "Yes," she finally whispered, ducking her head so he could put it on.

Spike clasped the chain around her neck, placing a gentle kiss at the nape. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"More beautiful than cherry blossoms?" she said sweetly, reaching around to draw his hand to her mouth. She kissed his palm lightly.

"Much more." He could feel her smile into his hand. "C'mon Dru, David's waiting." She got to her feet and he pursed his lips in displeasure. "No, baby, on your knees."

Drusilla glared at him, but dropped to her knees.

"That's a good girl. I'll just get David." Spike crossed the room and slid open the door, calling out to David. David looked up from the Japanese paper he had been pretending to read and looked at the vampire curiously.

"What's the matter, Spike?"

"Nothing's the matter, I just wanted you to come in here."

"Ohhh...," David said knowingly. "Well, I'll be right in then." Folding the newspaper up, he leaped up from the chair and walked towards the bedroom door, pulling his thin glittery shirt over his head and tossing it onto the couch. He ran his hands over Spike's bare chest as he brushed past the vampire, then stopped short when he saw the kneeling Drusilla. "What's this?"

Spike smirked. "A gift."

David reached down and lifted Drusilla's chin, looking at her critically. Drusilla snapped at his hand. David took a step back. "Spike..." he said worriedly.

"Now, now, pet," Spike said condescendingly. "Be nice to David. Mustn't bite your playmates."

Drusilla looked up at David with wide innocent eyes. "I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice. "I thought you liked pain..."

Spike pulled her to her feet. "You can't be wearing that," he said, gesturing to her flimsy polyester slip.

Drusilla looked down, grasped a section of the neckline in each hand and ripped the slip in half with a minimum of effort. "Better?" she asked.

Spike reached out and gently caressed one of her breasts, holding it in his hand. "Much," he said, leaning in to nuzzle her neck. He paused for a second, looking back at David. "Going to join us?"

David paused for a second, then joined Spike, grasping at Drusilla's other breast, nipping at the other side of her neck.

Drusilla's head lolled back on her shoulders, her knees buckling slightly. The threesome slowly made their way to the bed, Drusilla falling onto the bed, Spike and David curling up on either side of her.

Drusilla raised her arms above her head, arching her back just enough to where her breasts lifted, practically begging to be sucked and fondled. Spike and David leaned down, each taking a breast. Drusilla groaned as two mouths sucked on her nipples.

David and Spike bumped heads, then looked up. Spike reached over, wrapping his hand around the back of David's head, pulling him close, smashing their lips together in a rough, passionate kiss.

David lost himself in the kiss, sliding his arms around Spike's neck. His tongue slid over Spike's lips before pushing back into his mouth.

Drusilla shifted underneath them, pushing David onto his back. David rolled, still keeping his arms around Spike. Spike moved to the left of David, running his hands over the man's chest, pinching his nipples gently.

Drusilla kissed the space between David's collarbones, then ran her tongue down his breastbone. David shuddered, and Drusilla lightly kissed his stomach, sliding her hands to the fly of his tight pants. She left butterfly kisses up and down his lean stomach as she undid his pants, pulling them down in one swoop, revealing his long thin painfully hard cock.

She studied it for a minute, then leaned down, giving David's cock a slow tender kiss before taking it into her mouth.

David groaned, his hips bucking up towards Drusilla's exquisitely cool mouth. Drusilla slid her tongue roughly over his cock, scraping the underside just so, causing David to clutch at the bedsheets.

Spike watched the two of them with obvious pleasure, pulling off his jeans before sitting, his back against the headboard, his hand slowly stroking his cock. "She's good, isn't she, David?" he asked, the smirk on his face growing wider.

David's response was a low groan as one of Drusilla's fingers reached down between his legs.

Suddenly, without warning, she was gone, kneeling above him, looking down at him with narrow, lust-filled eyes. She traced a faint random pattern on his chest with her fingernails before grabbing his cock and slowly putting him into her.

David moaned, grabbing her hips tightly and pulling her onto him quickly, burying himself in her quickly warming wetness. Drusilla leaned down, rubbing her breasts against his chest as she reached a fast rhythm.

Her hand slid down her body as her back arched, sitting up to have him fully inside her, her fingers reaching her clit and rubbing it quickly, each stroke of her fingers matching each downstroke of her body.

One, two, three, and she came hard around his cock, clamping down onto him, her hips bucking hard against his body. David groaned loudly, pushing up into her, shooting deep into her, then slumping back against the bed in exhaustion. Drusilla fell against him, resting for a few seconds against his hot body, then rolled off of him, lying on the bed languidly.

After a few more minutes, David lifted his head. Spike was still sitting against the headboard, his eyes closed tightly as his hand moved up and down his cock. David rolled onto his side, his hand wrapping over Spike's.

Spike looked down into David's eyes, never breaking the gaze until, after only a few strokes, they clenched shut as he spilled over both their hands.

 

Drusilla lay splayed on Spike's chest, the fine silver chain clinking as she moved slightly in her sleep. She whimpered softly and Spike kissed her shoulder, one hand moving up to stroke her hair soothingly.

"Does she always fall asleep so fast?" David asked dreamily.

"No...she's playing the good girl tonight. She's exhausted me plenty of times, gone the whole night...the whole next day...." He grinned stupidly, trailing off.

"Bloody vampires, are you all such lechers?"

Spike eased Drusilla off of him, then slid over to pull David into his arms. "No, you just hit the jackpot. Got the two biggest undead whores around."

"Lucky me." He sighed heavily, looking pensive.

Spike kissed him, biting his lip playfully as he stroked his back. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I keep thinking about the future. The two of you staying beautiful and young forever, and me growing older until I can only look at you and wish for eternity."

"You're longing for eternity, are you? I can give it to you, you know."

"Your lips are so cold, Spike. All of you is cold." He shivered slightly and Spike pulled the blankets up over the two of them. "Is that what I'd feel like if you turned me? Like ice. Do you know how odd it is to lie next to someone and not feel their heartbeat...to not feel them breathing? Do you miss it?"

"I honestly don't remember it. And it's not like that.." he struggled to explain. "It's more...you can hear everything. Feel everything. And when you feed, it's like fire running through you."

"Do you remember the last time we fucked? When you fed from me? What if I said I liked it?" He glanced at Spike, holding his gaze. " What if I said I wanted to take you up on your offer?"

"Is that what you're saying?"

David leaned in to kiss Spike, the vampire doing the same. The two met in the middle and mouths meshed. A tongue flicked across a waiting mouth and lips parted, allowing entry. The intrepid space explorer journeyed across the dark, damp places and the strong white mountains of the landscape, noticing the electrifying sensations of his contact.

David broke the kiss and pulled back an inch. " Yes. That's what I'm saying. I want to finish the tour, but then...I want you to give me eternity. I want you to turn me."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I've been thinking about it for a while. I want to be with you. I love you."

Spike kissed David fiercely, grinding his pelvis into the other man's. Neither man noticed Drusilla leaving the room quietly, her fists clenched. She slid the door closed behind her, then tore at the collar, bending it until the clasp broke and it came off.

 

"There's slaughter in the air Protest on the wind Someone else inside me Someone could get skinned..." — Beauty & The Beast

Drusilla watched from the shadows as Spike slid the door open and walked out into the night air to hunt. Her sweet little Spike and that man had been in there all day. They hadn't even noticed she'd left. Her lower lip pushed out into a pout, and black thoughts filled her head.

Spike was hers. She tiptoed carefully up to the sliding door, her slender frame casting a shaky shadow on it. One gaunt hand slithered across the paper and slid it silently open.

David was sprawled on the bed, the sheet tangled around his pale naked body. Drusilla smiled when she saw his face was bare of makeup. He looked younger that way, more...vulnerable.

Stretching her arms up, she pulled her dress over her head in one fluid motion, then dropped the fine silk near her feet. David murmured and shifted in his sleep as she climbed onto the bed, her long hair brushing the mattress as she crawled towards the top of the bed.

Drusilla chuckled as she stretched herself out next to him, running her fingernails lightly across his chest. His hand came down from behind his head, brushing her fingers away. She waited a moment, then skittered them down his inner arm. He muttered and rolled over, dragging the sheet with him.

She licked her lips and followed him over, pushing the sheet down to his waist and nipping the base of his spine with her sharp teeth. She worried the skin for a bit, then looked back up. His eyes were wide and frightened.

"Drusilla?" She smiled at him. It wasn't a reassuring smile. It was the smile of a shark who'd just smelled blood.

"Shhhh..." she whispered, running her fingernails up and down his back. She giggled softly when he shivered. "Are you cold, David?"

"What do you want, Drusilla?"

"Mmmmm, so many things. Pomegranates, daisies, blood...you." Her tongue darted out and lazily licked his spine.

"Me?" he said in a small, frightened voice.

Drusilla slithered up the silk sheets until she was lying partially on top of David, her slight weight belying her hold on him. "I heard you, you know. 'I want to be with you. I love you.'," she sing-songed mockingly, her voice full of disdain. "He is not yours, he is mine.

She giggled delicately, grazing his ear with her voice. "You're human," she purred. "Mortal." Lips grazed the back of his neck. "One...small...accident," Her lips gently touched his jugular. "And you'd be dead..." Her tongue slid against the vein. "Fit for nothing more than the wormsss..." She hissed the final syllable before nipping ever-so- slightly on his neck.

David bolted up, flying from under Drusilla to the other side of the bed, staring at her in terror. "Jesus..." he breathed.

Drusilla stretched languidly, her back arching, her small perfect breasts pointing towards the ceiling. She chuckled low in her throat. "Silly man..." she said, one hand sliding down to rest against her collarbone. "I called for him too."

David toppled off of the bed, the fall startling him out of his fear. He quickly stood up and ran for the door.

Drusilla leapt off of the bed, reaching the door before he did. "Naughty naughty..." she said softly, looking up at him with her wide hungry eyes.

David stepped back, stopping only when he felt the opposite wall against his back. "Please..." he said, his voice cracking. "Please...go away..." His hands went up to his face, covering his eyes.

"No," Drusilla said, her face changing. "I was here first."

The thin paper door was roughly pushed aside, jumping from its tracks. "What the fuck is going on in here?" Spike shouted, staring at Drusilla.

Drusilla looked at Spike, her face still demonic. "I'm going to rip his eyes out," she said in a rough voice. "I'm tired of him."

"I'm not." Spike looked at her angrily. "Let. Him. Go."

Drusilla straightened imperiously. "You'll come back," she said haughtily. "You always do." She left the room.

Spike moved over to David. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

David nodded, his narrowed eyes never leaving the doorway. "That fucking bitch..." he said under his breath. "That fucking psychotic bitch...I don't see why you just don't..."

Spike looked at the door, then back at David. "Don't," he said tersely. He walked out into the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

Drusilla stood in the living room, glaring at the door as Spike shut it. She opened her mouth, but Spike interrupted before she could get a word out. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Drusilla?" he yelled. "You can't kill him!"

"Why not? He's mortal, flesh and blood, toys for us to play with and then to eat."

"He's more than that. We wouldn't be here without him. You wouldn't be in Japan, we'd be back in fucking Whitechapel with the occasional hooker for entertainment!"

"I want to be back in Whitechapel. I want to go right now, run away from this place, have you back with me." Her eyes grew large, pleading, her hands snaking around Spike's waist. "Please, Spike? Can we please go back? Do it for me? Do it for your princess?"

Spike's only response was to look away.

Drusilla hissed as the wave of his rejection hit her. "Do you know what you're doing?," she asked quietly. "Do you?"

Spike nodded slowly.

"You don't know what you're doing, " she exploded. Wrenching her arms from around his waist, she struck out at him, lashing his chest with blows. "He's a human, a mortal! You hear his heart beating and you don't rip it out, you listen to him breathe and you don't crush his throat! He's going to get old and wrinkled, and he'll break when you try to touch him!"

She raked her nails down her cheek, barely wincing as blood began to flow. Spike winced, but held firm. Hysterically, she continued, "He's mortal! He's food! He's not important, he's a nothing. Inconsequential, useless....and if you do turn him, Spike, he won't be the one you want anymore...he'll be soulless, cruel, like us." She broke off. "He's mortal, Spike, he's mortal, he's mortal, he's mortal..." A small sob ripped through her. "He's not me." She reached up and touched the blood that was drying on her cheeks. "Look what you made me do."

Spike reached out to brush the blood away, but stopped before he touched her. She nodded and turned on her heel, walking out of the door heedless of her nakedness.

 

"You're too old to lose it...too young to choose it..." — Rock N Roll Suicide

"Spike."

The vampire glanced up at David. The rock star smiled at him, a strange contrast to his elaborate concert outfit. "That's the third time I said your name. What's wrong?"

Spike shook his head. "Nothing." David kneeled in front of him, one hand stroking Spike's knee.

"Do you not want to..I'll understand if you change your mind," David said calmly, but looking at him curiously.

Spike smiled. "No, it's not that. I'm just distracted. Drusilla..she said something."

"But she's gone, isn't she?" At Spike's nod, David looked down at the ground. "Do you miss her?"

"Yes, but..I have you." He lit a cigarette nervously. "Forever."

David stood, wrapping his arms around Spike before kissing him deeply, smudging Spike's lips with his lipstick, then slowly pulling away. "I have to go, but I'll be back soon. And then..." he trailed off, heading for the door of the dressing room. "You'll be right offstage, right?" His lover nodded. "I love you," David said, then quickly shut the door behind him.

Spike watched the cigarette smolder between his fingers, then stubbed it out harshly on the dresser. "Bloody hell," he murmured, resting his head in one of his hands.

He stayed like that for a long time, the faint sounds of the concert filtering through the thin walls. He had to decide.

Now.

He got to his feet, walking slowly towards the door. He closed his eyes, a terrifying image flashing across his mind.

David, blood and lipgloss smeared across his mouth, held Zowie's squirming body in his arms. As Spike watched, David's face changed and he lowered his fangs towards his son's neck. Zowie's struggles ceased, his limbs going slack, as David continued to feed. After a few moments, David lifted his head, grinning, and dropped the corpse on the ground.

Spike swore as he came back to reality, striking the door so it shook in its frame. He couldn't do it. It wasn't right. Spike scoffed at that — he hadn't done the right thing in over a century. It was selfishness, pure and simple.

He didn't want to see David's face twisted by a demonic visage. He didn't want to see him sated with blood. He didn't want to touch him and feel cold, dead flesh, the clammy pallor of undeath clinging to his lips and eyes. David was life. He was warm...and mortal. David's mortality was part of his appeal. Spike looked down, faintly sick at the realization.

Hearing that heartbeat next to him in bed....mortality was fleeting, life gone so quickly. If Spike was lucky, if he stayed out of Slayers' ways and avoided other nasties, he would live forever. He'd see David die, he'd see Zowie die, he'd see Zowie's children die.

Immortality changed a person — he knew that from experience. Would he love David as a vampire? With a demon whispering to him to do all the evil things he'd wanted to do but had refrained from because of a soul? And more importantly, would David still love him?

He didn't know.

Spike quickly grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the dresser, scribbling a few incoherent words. He folded it, wrote "David" across it. and set it carefully on the dressing table. He looked thoughtfully around the dressing room, at the costumes, glitter, and makeup sprawled across the small space, then slowly shook his head. He walked towards the door, heading for the back exit.

Onstage, David finished "Round and Round". Breathing heavily, he brushed the sweat out of his eyes, shielding them from the bright lights. He held up one hand to silence the crowd. "Everybody...this has been one of the greatest tours of our lives. I would like to thank the band. I would like to thank our road crew. I would like to thank our lighting people. Of all of the shows on this tour, this particular show will remain with us the longest...because not only is it..." He took a breath, preparing himself for the next words. "Not only is it the last show of the tour, but its the last show that we'll ever do." He let the words sink in. "Thank you."

The audience screamed. Several loud shouts of "No!" could be heard. David glanced offstage, his trepidation lifting as he caught sight of a head of blond hair behind the technician. Reassured, he ignored the noise and launched into the last song of the night.

"Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth."

Outside the theater, Spike lit a cigarette. He took a long drag off of it, leaning against the brick wall.

"You're too old to lose it, too young to chose it."

Spike tossed the cigarette onto the sidewalk, squaring his shoulders and walking away, never looking back.

 

"Oh gimme your hands!" David shouted out the final words of the song, his eyes closed tightly. He heard the wild screams of the audience, acknowledged the band tersely, impatient to get offstage.

Finally, he put the microphone in its stand, rushing offstage without glancing at the audience. Heading straight for where he had seen Spike before, David stopped in surprise when the blond man turned around.

"You're not Spike," he said, dazed slightly. He turned around, scanning the small crowd of technicians and bystanders. No Spike.

A sick feeling curled up inside his stomach. "Ronno," he said, grabbing the shoulder of the guitarist as he came offstage. "Have you seen Spike?" he asked, just a bit desperately.

The blond man shook his head. "Last time I saw him was before the concert." He frowned at David. "Now...what's this about retiring..." He trailed off as he saw David wasn't listening, then walked away, cursing under his breath.

David headed for the dressing room, his heart heavy with dread. Opening the door, he saw what he expected, an empty room. He headed back, frantic now, hoping that he had merely missed Spike before. But he knew.

David leaned against the wall, slowly sinking down, his head on his knees. He shut out the world, his heart bleeding as he realized he'd been abandoned.

An indeterminable time later, a gentle hand touched David's shoulder. "David."

David looked up, his face a mess, eyes streaked with black mascara. "He's gone, you know," he said in a flat voice. "He left me."

Mick shrugged. "Maybe he got called away or something."

David shook his head. "No. He's gone." He rose from his seat on the floor and walked slowly to his dressing room. Mick followed behind him. David shut the door of the small room, and headed directly for the dressing table. After cutting a few lines from the small pile of cocaine sitting there, he quickly snorted them, rubbing his nose as the rush hit.

"David?"

David looked up at the blond man, his eyes dead. "What?" he said hoarsely.

"Spike left a note." Mick held up a small sheet of paper.

David shifted his gaze to the mirror, looking at his reflection. He held out his hand and Mick handed him the note. He held it for a while, not opening it or looking at it, then slowly he picked up his lighter. Flicking it, he held the flame to the corner of the paper, never directly looking at the note, just at its cool reflection in the mirror. The note started to burn immediately, the red-hot flame quickly consuming it until it was ashes, falling to the dressing table.

"Fuck him," he said quietly. "I don't need..." He covered his eyes with one hand. His body shook once, then stilled.

David's hand fell away, and he smiled broadly. It didn't reach his cold eyes. "We have a party to go to, right?" He stood up, putting an arm around Mick's shoulders. "A party for me," he said, his voice bitterly harsh, like antifreeze, like poison. "For Ziggy."

The two men walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

 

"Seeing my past to let it go..." — Thursday's Child

Present day

Spike walked into the Men's Room, following the blond man. He leaned against the wall, waiting.

The man washed his hands and was just about to leave when Spike spoke up. "David," he said, his voice nearly nonchalant.

David looked up at him, his mouth opening slightly, his eyes filled with surprise and a hint of fear. "Spike...." He licked his dry lips. "It's....it's been awhile..."

Spike nodded. He looked David up and down. "You've changed."

David smiled bitterly. "You haven't."

Spike looked down at the ground. He put out his cigarette on the sink and sighed. "I....I didn't want to leave you," he said after a minute.

"But you did."

"I did." Spike reached out, his hand barely grazing David's cheek.

David grabbed his hand, pushing it away from him. "I would have spent forever with you," he said, his voice harsh.

"I know..." Spike paused again. "I...." He smiled bitterly. "I don't know what to say. For once, I don't have a bloody clue what to say." He looked up at David. "I....I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that."

David looked at him, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I was wrong," he breathed. "You have changed." He walked past Spike to the door.

"David?" Spike said, his voice nearly pleading. David paused and looked back at Spike, his face resigned.

"Goodbye, Spike." He opened the door and left.

"Once we were lovers...could they understand..closer than others I was...I was your man..." — Can You Hear Me

This Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Real Person story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.