|
by MoonSidhe 
Rating: I have no idea. PG13, maybe R for death?Disclaimer: None of the characters of BtVS belong to me, Joss & Mr. GrrArgh have that pleasure. Please don't sue, I couldn't afford the bloody lawyer. Lyrics from the Faith & the Muse's songs 'The Silver Circle' and 'Scars Flown Proud', & quote by Swinburne: The Triumph of Time Summary: Spike is partying in Chicago on a blood moon. No real point to it, I just had to get the dancing girl out of my head. Spoilers: none really, takes place pre-Season 4 Feedback: very new to this, so more than welcome. flames will be tossed to the logs, ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~ Downtown Chicago at night. The moon was a bloody crescent fast sinking below the skyscrapers. At three in the morning, when creatures of the night are still riding high awaiting the dawn, there are places, hidden places, where those who know how and why to look can find one last refuge before returning to the sunlit world. He didn't know why he was coming here, really. The mortals who came here.... they were ones he could almost respect. Almost. The meals had been plenty tonight, but the blood moon had risen high, and hunger high with it. When the law abiding day-dwellers awoke, they would discover the alleys and gutters of their city once again ran with blood. He pulled in a drag from his dwindling cigarette. One more kill, to make the night complete. This had been his best night since his separation from Dru, the moon had woken the thrill of the hunt, and rekindled the his own lust for unlife. Tomorrow he would begin the future again, and tackle the past (Blonde hair, swirling stakes, always just a little too hard to kill, one who had learned to bend and not break No, not yet. For tonight he wanted only one last, exquisite kill. Something to make this a night to truly remember. Crushing the cigarette under his heel, he moved from the alley from which he'd been watching. The nameless vault, a converted two story slaughterhouse, was nestled, safely hidden, in backstreets that wouldn't be found on any map. From the club drifted the twisting yet serene threads of music, strings intertwined with a primal beat, electronic notes inspiring pure lust, with dulcimers evoking fatal rushes of nightmares given voice. Not his usual type of music, but the fitting for the night. He brushed past the bouncer not even sparing a glance. The rather large brawny man didn't spare him much of one either, after about 2 am they stopped asking for cover charge, being too dangerous for the health of the staff. He stepped through the slightly crumbling doorway, taking in the view and scents. The club opened to a bar dominating the room, where the most angst ridden of the club's patrons could be found, with their head lolling over their cups. The scent of stale blood could still be detected in the air, it permeated the atmosphere, soaked through the walls. Truth to be told, they wouldn't have it any other way. The crack from the pool table turned his head momentarily, but was quickly averted when the band started up their second set. The music drifted down from the floor above, twisting down the spiral stairs in invitation. With a barely suppressed predatory grin he headed up, as waves of nearly sexual energy crashed on him, evoked by the darkwave band with an angel's voice playing, and the inhibition free vibe of the writhing forms on the dance floor. ~~*~~*~~*~~ Damn, I could go with a drink. Spike mused to himself. He made his way slowly over to the bar at the far end of this room, working through the crowd, taking time to appreciate potential dinners, and milking glances in return. He twisted out of one blonde's attempt to pull him further into the dance, leaving her with a disappointed pout on her lips. Hmm, maybe that chit will be the lucky one tonight. Finally reaching the bar he was attended by a matronly woman with black hair past her hips, and a wardrobe that looked as if it came from the Elizabethan period. She was good though, cordial but not too much so, and damn good style behind her bar. I'll have to remember not to eat this one. Too few good bar tenders in the world The music changed tempo, switching to a more sensuous rhythm. Beer in hand he turned around to once more watch the dance floor. A flash of red caught his eye, and he scanned the crowd to get a better look. There it was again. One of those strange breaks that occurs in crowds happened, and he saw her. Her hair was burgundy with streaks of violet, and it poured down to her waist, with crystals tied in and flashing throughout. She wore a black flowing skirt and leather corset, with a transparent lace top underneath. Her makeup was done with a few tasteful shades of purple and black, and she was twirling a scarf around her as she danced. The shred of silk followed her every lead, moving with her like an invisible partner. Her. Spike growled in his throat as the lust came on him once again. The bodies still parted he moved towards her, and by way in introduction placed his hand on the small of her back. She turned around in shock, something akin to fear flashing across her eyes, but he moved into the dance with her, his face betraying only his obvious interest. Frozen for a moment, but quickly drifting back into the movements, her eyes half closing as the music once again wound around her. When the song stopped she looked up into his eyes, and he bestowed her with a small, secretive smile. "May we again, luv?" Spike whispered to her gently. She merely nodded her consent, as the next song began. He moved with her, sometimes touching sometimes not, a courtship of, little did she know it, death. They went so for nearly an hour, the band on stage above them inspiring nearly ceaseless energy. Spike was intrigued with their style, it didn't seem to fit in any one type of music, but was endlessly innovative. As was the woman before him. She never moved in any set dance pattern, but seemed to bend the very music around her. His demon was nearly howling within him, as her pulse was pounding ecstatically, reaching higher. The last song ended with one of her hands held in his, which he took advantage of by bringing it up to his lips. Holding her fingers firmly, he looked in her eyes. "A name, pet?" Her skin was flushed slightly, the heat from the dance still between them. But she communicated well with body language, she knew it was ending. "Isolde" "Isolde?" Spike let it flow past his lips once, trying it's taste as he planned to soon taste her. He brought her hand to his lips once more, this time nipping at her knuckles. She inhaled sharply, and Spike caught a glance of the necklace she was wearing for the first time, a rose cast in silver, with a snake twisting down it with red flashing eyes. The thorns of the rose were piercing the body of the snake. Her hand slipped from his fingers, and with a last unreadable glance, she turned to leave, maneuvering through the crowd as they were crying out for an encore. Better and better. His demon was nearly humming through him in anticipation of this last kill. He drifted back in the direction of the bar, then went out to follow her. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw her saying goodbye to someone at the entrance. With his heightened senses he could hear the man telling her to be careful, you could never be sure what was lurking around these streets at night. Heh. Got that right mate. Hope you don't have any pressing engagements with her tomorrow night. Spike stepped out the door moments after her. His demon coming to the fore, he saw her walking around the building, to where most of the patrons left their cars, relatively secure. Trailing softly behind her, he looked up briefly as a steady rain began to fall, bringing steam from the heated Chicago streets. Isolde halted, her pulse still racing. She felt regret when she thought of saying goodbye to the man who had once been her lover at the door. He loved her still, and could sense her unease as she left the relative safety of the club. Yet this was too perfect, the rain had come. How often he had called her his beautiful storm..... Opening her arms up to the rain, a look of rapture on her face, she knew another force of nature was going to claim her tonight. Fitting in a way, and he had given her one of her greatest pleasures, that of the dance. Her eyes closed and facing the sky, she whispered out into the night. "Are you there?" The demon growled, and Spike lunged for her. He wrested one of her arms and forced it behind her back, slamming her up against. the side of the building. He heard her intake a breath sharply, as the music from inside began again, the band coming out again to appease the appetite of the crowd. He placed his fangs over the pulse point in her neck, ready to sink in and finally taste of her, when she spoke. Not incoherently or babbling with fear, just whispering. "Please wait." Curiosity overcoming the demon for a moment, he moved slightly, his face barely a breath from hers, looking at her with unremorseful glowing golden eyes.. "Yes, pet?" he growled huskily above her lips. She swallowed briefly, then spoke. "I know what you are," she forced out. "I know I'm going to die tonight. But.... please..." She looked him fully in the eyes as the words to the music within picked up. "Let me have this last dance, please." ################ Come to life my deviltry possess this poor company Our secret be benefit their unhappy lack of it Awaken my trusting friend my undisturbed reflection So fluid you beauty all gears and teeth COME ALIVE ################ Spike looked at her deeply, feeling lust of another sort building within him. He pulled her close, his fingers tracing the line of her throat, down her arm. ################ Come to life my second skin to protect the madness locked within Yet I know a place where we can touch in tongues Though words did betray us did bury our past, cry blasphemy Cancer master instinct Sad passive release ################ She moved against him, confined but still wild, the music playing off both forms of his lust, nearly releasing her but never letting go, keeping her caged within his reach, yet feeling almost as she were binding him. ################ Take heed my dear ones the use of this spell may serve to well Our mouth is our chalice our tongue our sword And truth holds a dozen doors One thrown open wide shall yield one more Yet mystery remains above their eyes. COME ALIVE ################ "I've never been afraid of death." The words fell from her mouth. Spike shot his hand to the back of her head, intwining with her hair, dragging her closer and lifting her face to crush her lips in a violent, passionate kiss. She smiled in pleasure under his lips as the rain drops moved over her. "It was always the dying that terrified me," She breathed when he broke away from her. "Of the things that could happen, this...... this is a good way to die." She looked him in the eye again, her free hand caressing her neck, and moving back to the clasp on her necklace, letting it drop to the ground below. ################ come alive ################ Her head tilted slightly to the side, Spike moved over her, licking her throat to feel her racing heart best, then, with a tenderness that strangely seemed to come from his demon, sank his fangs into her and drank. She let out a soft moan as he pierced her flesh, and a sensation of floating embraced her. He drank on, feeling her heart beat slow, satiating at last his lust to taste her, when he felt her lips being pressed softly against his throat. Had he not been so close to her, he never would have heard her last whisper "Remember me........ if you would" He lowered her gently to the ground, folding her arms across her chest in a look he somehow knew she would want, beautiful in death as she no doubt had been in life. Looking over beside her body, he saw where the necklace lay. As if she had wanted him to take it. Picking it up, he noticed a delicate inscription on the inside. At the door of life, by the gate of breath, There are worse things waiting for men than death. Holding it tightly in his hand, until it seemed the thorns bit into him as well, Spike gave one last lingering look over her body, then headed out to find shelter before sunrise, necklace still in his grasp. He wouldn't forget her. Whispers of another song drifted after him, encouraging him or taunting him he wasn't sure. ################ In every dance no steps are placed and every path mistakes are made And if all paths lead but to the grave then let us dance upon our way ################ End |
