FIC: Fire and Ice (2 of 4)
Dec. 29th, 2006 11:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shipperx:
Title: Fire and Ice (2 of 4)
Spoilers: Post-NFA
Genre: Spike-centric AtS, Gen
Rating: R-ish
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Never been paid and never will be.
Written For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
noel_of_spike
Summary As Christmas rolls around, Spike finds himself without plans... so he heads to Canada to atone for an old crime, confronts an ex, and faces down a dragon. He'll need whiskey in his egg nog after this.
Author's Note: I tried to finish. I really, reallly did. But, like Spike, I found myself a bit overwhelmed by the events around me. I'll post this story in parts over the next few days. Sorry!
II
Beyond the stone patio, where the ice had been scraped away, snow stood in drifts so deep that Spike gazed at them in surprise. It might be Christmas in Canada, but he had been to Canada in December before, and it hadn’t been like this… at least not so early in the season. Of course, the last time he had stood on this particular landing, it had been 1910.
The five-star Banff Springs Hotel had been built by the Canadian Pacific Railroad to cater to rich Europeans who had kidded themselves that they experienced the wilderness when they left the Continent by luxury liner and crossed the Rockies by equally luxurious trains. Dining cars with silver utensils and sleeping cars with crisp white linens, in addition to the grand hotels, had provided a lavish hunting ground for vampires. No one knew or cared if tourists went missing, and Darla had loved the first class accommodations.
When Darla, Dru, and he had arrived at Banff, Darla had her pick of rooms with breathtaking views, and Dru had wanted to strip naked to wade into the sulfurous hot springs to commune with wood sprites. Spike hadn’t known whether there actually were wood sprites, but if there was a place to find them, the steaming pools beneath evergreens laden with snow looked like the right place.
Dru had laughed and pronounced it perfect for the celebration of the solstice.
“Ice with fire,” she’d said. “The line between light and the world’s end.” When she’d looked to see Spike standing on the cliff above the pools, she’d walked out of the water, steam rising from her slender white body as she had climbed to where he had stood.
She had pressed her palm against his cheek and had said, “Poor lost lamb.”
Spike had tilted his head, growled, and lightly nipped her neck. “No lamb here, love.”
Dru had thrown back her head and giggled. “You wish to be a dragon slayer.” Then she’d straightened and looked him in the eye. With a note of warning in her usually dreamy voice, she’d said, “Be careful that the dragon doesn’t slay you.”
There had been no dragon, of course—not the night of the solstice or the night after that. There had only been a motley collection of drunk and stupid vampires. Darla had complained bitterly about the execrable state of the affair, and she’d ranted about the ‘proper’ rituals that she’d attended when she’d served The Master and been part of the Order of Aurelius.
Spike had mocked the older vampire and told her to run home to Daddy if she was so unhappy. This had set Drusilla on a crying binge, whimpering that *her* daddy had left them and no one could hurt her properly except Angelus.
As vacations went, Spike remembered the trip to Banff being only slightly more pleasant than a trip to hell.
Still, as he now stood on the hotel’s patio, gazing down at the valley filled with conifers and a winding, ice-edged river running beneath a low-hanging moon and star-studded sky, Spike wondered whether he’d given the place a proper chance. Darla had been right – the view was magnificent.
He kicked his boot against the low stone wall, knocking the snow off his Docs. The entire place was stone now, rebuilt from the ground up and designed to resemble a Scottish baronial castle. In the old days, it had been wood and plaster but, before they had left the last time, Dru had set fire to the hotel. Flames had licked the sky--during a blizzard, no less-- and Dru had danced naked in the snow. As they had watched it burn, Darla had clapped her hands and pronounced the conflagration “quite grand.”
“Oh my god,” a familiar voice said. “You.”
Spike turned to see a pretty, buxom blonde standing in the doorway, dressed in a white fur-lined pink parka and tight-as-a-second-skin ski pants.
He groaned. “Harm.”
She preened a little and gave a flirtatious smile before she remembered that she was angry with him. Her gaze narrowed and her glossy pink lips tightened to a thin line. “Did you follow me?”
Spike rolled his eyes and pushed passed Harmony to enter the hotel bar.
“It’s too late,” she told him, toddling awkwardly after him in her plastic ski boots. “I’ve found someone new. Dirk—“
“Dirk?” Spike cocked an eyebrow and didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “Seriously?”
She glared. “He’s very handsome. More handsome than you.”
Spike snorted and ordered a single-malt whiskey. Straight-up.
Harm continued to prattle. “You can go home. I’m not coming back to you. No matter how much you grovel or beg or plead, I won’t give in.”
Spike laughed bitterly. “I know you’re a dingbat, Harm, but did you forget that the last time I saw you, you betrayed us and left the lot of us for dead?”
She gasped. “I so totally did not.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t betray anyone. You guys were mean to me.”
“ ‘Course we were.” He knocked back his drink in a single gulp. “And if you’re off otter blood these days, I’ll be meaner still.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s the rules. I’d have to kill you.”
She sputtered and backed away with her ski boots clomping against the floor.
A young male vampire draped his arm over her shoulder. “Hey, babe, aren’t you gonna introduce me?”
Suddenly finding her spine, Harm sniffed, did a hair toss, and cuddled close to her mop-headed vamp. He was outfitted, head to tow, in black snow boarding gear. “This is my ex,” she told Dirk. “The one I was telling you about. Blondie-B…er… Spike.”
Dirk smiled. “Dude, I’ve heard about you. You’re like really old, right?”
Spike frowned. “Not that old.”
“I heard you were a total bad-ass.”
“No,” Harm protested. “He’s not. He’s a… a…”
“Bad, rude man,” Spike supplied.
“Yeah, and he –“
Spike cut her off. “Is rather curious why the two of you are dressed in ski gear.”
“Dude, snowboarding is like totally my life.” Dirk gave a Keanu Reeves-like laugh. “Or, you know, unlife.”
Spike rolled his eyes.
Dirk sat on a barstool. “It would’ve been a major bummer if I had to give up the powder after I ‘fanged-out.’ “ He even used air quotes.
Spike grimaced. Good lord, had Harm found someone as vapid as herself?
Dirk caressed his black and red snowboard like it was the curve of Harm’s breast. “Then I remembered that Keystone had night skiing. Oh, and then I found out I had super, awesome night vision and could ski anywhere.” Pulling Harm up against him, he nuzzled her. “Now, we’re hitting all the resorts.”
Harm skimmed her hand over Dirk’s thigh while gazing defiantly at Spike. “We had a great time in Aspen. Dirk killed a celebrity just to get me a mink.”
Dirk nodded. “Anything for you, babe.”
“And,” she said. “I saw Paris Hilton.”
Spike signaled the bartender to refill his drink. “So what are you two snowbunnies doing here? This old rock hasn’t been a hot spot for the nobs since World War II.”
Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum then explained how they had arrived for the “bitchin’ party” planned for The Long Night. It was being held at the glacial lake, and there would be bonfires, blood sacrifires, and – if there was time – maybe some ice climbing. It was a slightly different location and itinerary than the last “Long Night” that Spike had attended but somewhat recognizable all the same.
Without asking too many questions, Dirk and Harm allowed Spike to tag along. (Thankfully, Harm had the short-term memory of a fruit-bat and had seemingly forgotten – or had never taken seriously – his threat to kill her.)
When they arrived at the lake, Spike spared a thought for the way Dru would have wanted to bask in the reflected moonlight while admiring the way the rocky peaks plunged into the snow-covered ice sheet. When, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dirk and Harm snogging, Spike thought of Buffy, and wished that he could have brought her here, to see the majestic view… and the majestic ass-kicking soon to come.
As Spike navigated his way down the hill, he decided that, other than the colorful assortment of North Face jackets, the vampires at this Long Night weren’t any different from the ones in 1910. They were still mostly drunk and stupid. And the ‘vampyres,’ the humans who romanticized the ‘creatures of the night’ were even more drunk and/or stupid if they thought they had any greater purpose here than being the midnight buffet.
Spike saw Anne’s squirrelly friend, Marvin Diego, with a girl who looked somewhat familiar. Spike suspected that he’d seen the girl around Anne’s shelter, so it seemed that Marvin Diego had talked one (and now he counted two) of Anne’s kids into his suicidal quest.
“Bugger.”
Spike sidestepped someone who blocked his view of the runaways.
“Oh God,” said Anne.
It had been Anne who he had sidestepped.
“I knew you hadn’t changed,” she accused. “ I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” She paled and then frowned. “Unless… Did Angel send you to save my kids? If he did, I’m totally embarrassed and sorry I accused you--”
“Angel didn’t send me.” But before a new storm of insults had time to roll off her tongue, Spike said, “Which doesn’t mean I’m the rotter you think I am. I’m not the villain here.”
“You’re trying to help?”
“I was considering it.”
Anne silently digested this information as Spike pulled her out of the circle of light cast by the fire.
“Now, you tell me,” he said. “What are you doing here? And tell me you’re not alone, ‘cause that would be incredibly stupid.”
“I didn’t think it would go this far.” She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Marvin isn’t really dangerous. He’s just trying to find himself. And it’s stupid, I know, but he’s desperate and I thought…”
“You could catch him before he fell into this pit of vipers?”
If Anne had looked soft and easily broken before, when the light shifted and the moonlight fell over her she looked as though she had been cast out of blue steel. “He brought two of my kids with him. He can destroy his own life, but they’re kids. I won’t allow him to take them with him.”
Spike considered her for a moment, this wisp of a woman who had a hell of a way of standing her ground.
He nodded. “Right, then.” He gave a hint of a smile.
Dirk came out of nowhere and slapped Spike on the back. “Dude! You gotta get a move on. They’re about to light the Yule log.”
Harm shot Anne a look of contempt. “A blonde. I should have known.” She sniffed. “If he asks you to carry a stake and to call you ‘Buffy’ during sex, just say no.” After sticking her tongue out at Spike, the petite vampire flounced away.
Spike pushed his hands deeper into his duster’s pockets. “It wasn’t like it sounded.”
Anne looked at him doubtfully. “It wasn’t?”
“Actually, it was. But I’d feel like less of a prannet if we pretended the subject never came up.”
“And the Yule log?”
Spike cocked an eyebrow.
She asked, “What’s a Yule log doing as part of some vampiric ritual? It isn’t a bit too cheery and Christmas-like? Or is this some kind of deliberate sacrilege?”
Thankfully, Dru, in her strangely lyrical way, had once answered this question for Spike.
“The Yule log is pagan,” he said. “It has something to do with winter and living forever. Don’t know the details.”
Marvin Diego stood in the yellow-red light cast by the fire, holding the log in his hands while announcing in theatrically stentorian tones, “We, the children of the night, the vampyres, make this offering to the ‘gens Aurelia.’ ”
Spike’s lip curled in disgust.
The flames gave Marvin an almost demonic look as he lowered the wood into the fire. “We beg for a blessing as we enter this rite of passage, as we become part of the battle between dark and light.”
The memories of the screams and blood which had followed this invocation when Dru had made it – in a twisted, goddamned joke-- drove Spike forward, making him desperate to reach Anne’s kids before it was too late.
The vampires in the midst of the vampyres morphed into game face.
“Run!” Spike commanded.
Anne shook her head. “No.”
Spike turned towards her, his own face twisting into a monstrous mask. “I said run.”
“Not without my kids!”
Grabbing Anne’s hand, Spike dove into the melee with his coat billowing behind them. Sensing danger, he stiff-armed one vamp as it charged him and then backhanded another, flinging it into the bonfire where it flew face first into the kindling and burst into a spray of dust, which crackled, sparked, and caught fire like New Year’s Eve fireworks.
Screams echoed across the ice, and Spike saw Marvin Diego fall into a sniveling, pathetic heap as Dirk wrapped his arm around the nerd’s neck and began biting.
“There!” Anne yelled over the din, pointing to the horrified teens.
Spike pulled Dirk off of Marvin, dragging the vampire by its mop of hair as it kicked and struggled. Spike dropped the ski-crazy vamp to the ground so as to pull another vamp off of one of Anne’s kids.
The young girl looked at Spike’s scowling game face and screamed even louder.
“Bloody hell,” Spike said. “I’m—“
Anne rushed forward, hugging the teen. “We’re here to help.”
Spike looked over his shoulder to Dirk’s yellow-eyed glare of humiliated rage, which signaled a head-on charge of revenge.
Spike turned on his heel, pulled a stake from his pocket, and dusted Dirk in a single fluid motion.
Harmony yelled, and the vamp, who had attacked the teens, began crawling away just as the earth split wide open.
At least it felt and sounded as if the earth split open.
The lake ice cracked, jagged streaks marring the pristine blanket of snow. Then, everything exploded upward. A geyser of water propelled giant slabs of foot-thick ice twenty yards into the air.
A primordial roar shattered the evening, causing Spike and Anne to duck and cover as a spray of ice and snow crystals fell back to earth.
“What is it?” Anne asked in a breathlessly horrified whisper.
Spike wanted to say that he didn’t know, that he hadn’t seen what had shot up with the geyser. But he had seen, and he did know.
It was a dragon.
“You’ll do it this time,” Spike said. “You’ll run when I say run.”
“You won’t need to say it,” Anne told him.
“Run!”
Spike dragged one teen to her feet as Anne shepherded the other. The four of them charged toward the cover of the trees.
There was the sound – and feel – of a rush of wind caused by the flapping of giant bat-like wings, as the fantastic creature’s roar became an ear-piercing scream. It almost debilitated humans and drove most of the vampires to their knees.
Spike chanted, “Go, go,” to the kids, pushing, dragging, or pulling them to safety until they reached the treeline.
“Marvin!” Anne said.
Spike looked at her in disbelief. “You're kidding me.”
“We can’t leave him.”
Spike shoved the teen at her. As he looked back at the disaster behind them, he caught a glimpse of Harm’s pink parka disappearing over the crest of the hill. “Right,” he said. “I’ll go.”
The dragon landed on the bank of the lake with a thud, its giant talons providing sure footing in the snow as it circled the vampires who lay curled in a fetal position, clutching their ears. The creature roared – again -- and Spike could swear that his ears began to bleed.
He touched his cheek and felt the stickiness of blood. “Shit.” And he noticed that the sound of his own voice seemed muffled. Had the dragon’s roar burst his eardrums?
As Marvin crawled on his hands and knees, the dragon whipped its tail, driving the barbed end of it into the ground, blocking the man’s path of escape. The creature gave a smoking snort that caused ice to melt and turn to steam, and Marvin’s sniveling whimper became blubbering tears.
The dragon nudged the man, turning him over, and forcing Marvin to stare up at the face of certain death. Then it turned its horned head and examined the rest of the carnage on the lake’s bank.
It filled its lungs with clean mountain air, opened its massive jaws, and spit a jet of flame that incinerated all of the incapacitated vampires on the spot.
While the creature was occupied, Spike slipped around its tail, reaching the mewling Marvin Diego. He tugged at the man’s jacket, but Marvin shook his head and refused to move. He was immobilized by fear.
“Sonofabitch,” Spike muttered, causing the dragon’s ears to perk up. The scales along its spine rose like a hissing cat’s, and it roared again. Spike refused to bend or fall to his knees, but he felt more blood trickle down his cheek to his jaw and neck.
The dragon looked at Spike, then it sniffed him. And, for a moment, Spike wondered whether it was about to lick him or – like Illyria – decide to make him its pet. But the creature’s gaze narrowed and it attacked so swiftly that Spike never had a chance to fight back.
“Spike!” Anne screamed, as the dragon wrapped its vice-like talons around Spike’s waist.
Flapping its enormous wings, it tore upward through the night sky, and then plunged into the glacial lake…
Chapter 3
Title: Fire and Ice (2 of 4)
Spoilers: Post-NFA
Genre: Spike-centric AtS, Gen
Rating: R-ish
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Never been paid and never will be.
Written For:
noel_of_spikeSummary As Christmas rolls around, Spike finds himself without plans... so he heads to Canada to atone for an old crime, confronts an ex, and faces down a dragon. He'll need whiskey in his egg nog after this.
Author's Note: I tried to finish. I really, reallly did. But, like Spike, I found myself a bit overwhelmed by the events around me. I'll post this story in parts over the next few days. Sorry!
II
Beyond the stone patio, where the ice had been scraped away, snow stood in drifts so deep that Spike gazed at them in surprise. It might be Christmas in Canada, but he had been to Canada in December before, and it hadn’t been like this… at least not so early in the season. Of course, the last time he had stood on this particular landing, it had been 1910.
The five-star Banff Springs Hotel had been built by the Canadian Pacific Railroad to cater to rich Europeans who had kidded themselves that they experienced the wilderness when they left the Continent by luxury liner and crossed the Rockies by equally luxurious trains. Dining cars with silver utensils and sleeping cars with crisp white linens, in addition to the grand hotels, had provided a lavish hunting ground for vampires. No one knew or cared if tourists went missing, and Darla had loved the first class accommodations.
When Darla, Dru, and he had arrived at Banff, Darla had her pick of rooms with breathtaking views, and Dru had wanted to strip naked to wade into the sulfurous hot springs to commune with wood sprites. Spike hadn’t known whether there actually were wood sprites, but if there was a place to find them, the steaming pools beneath evergreens laden with snow looked like the right place.
Dru had laughed and pronounced it perfect for the celebration of the solstice.
“Ice with fire,” she’d said. “The line between light and the world’s end.” When she’d looked to see Spike standing on the cliff above the pools, she’d walked out of the water, steam rising from her slender white body as she had climbed to where he had stood.
She had pressed her palm against his cheek and had said, “Poor lost lamb.”
Spike had tilted his head, growled, and lightly nipped her neck. “No lamb here, love.”
Dru had thrown back her head and giggled. “You wish to be a dragon slayer.” Then she’d straightened and looked him in the eye. With a note of warning in her usually dreamy voice, she’d said, “Be careful that the dragon doesn’t slay you.”
There had been no dragon, of course—not the night of the solstice or the night after that. There had only been a motley collection of drunk and stupid vampires. Darla had complained bitterly about the execrable state of the affair, and she’d ranted about the ‘proper’ rituals that she’d attended when she’d served The Master and been part of the Order of Aurelius.
Spike had mocked the older vampire and told her to run home to Daddy if she was so unhappy. This had set Drusilla on a crying binge, whimpering that *her* daddy had left them and no one could hurt her properly except Angelus.
As vacations went, Spike remembered the trip to Banff being only slightly more pleasant than a trip to hell.
Still, as he now stood on the hotel’s patio, gazing down at the valley filled with conifers and a winding, ice-edged river running beneath a low-hanging moon and star-studded sky, Spike wondered whether he’d given the place a proper chance. Darla had been right – the view was magnificent.
He kicked his boot against the low stone wall, knocking the snow off his Docs. The entire place was stone now, rebuilt from the ground up and designed to resemble a Scottish baronial castle. In the old days, it had been wood and plaster but, before they had left the last time, Dru had set fire to the hotel. Flames had licked the sky--during a blizzard, no less-- and Dru had danced naked in the snow. As they had watched it burn, Darla had clapped her hands and pronounced the conflagration “quite grand.”
“Oh my god,” a familiar voice said. “You.”
Spike turned to see a pretty, buxom blonde standing in the doorway, dressed in a white fur-lined pink parka and tight-as-a-second-skin ski pants.
He groaned. “Harm.”
She preened a little and gave a flirtatious smile before she remembered that she was angry with him. Her gaze narrowed and her glossy pink lips tightened to a thin line. “Did you follow me?”
Spike rolled his eyes and pushed passed Harmony to enter the hotel bar.
“It’s too late,” she told him, toddling awkwardly after him in her plastic ski boots. “I’ve found someone new. Dirk—“
“Dirk?” Spike cocked an eyebrow and didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “Seriously?”
She glared. “He’s very handsome. More handsome than you.”
Spike snorted and ordered a single-malt whiskey. Straight-up.
Harm continued to prattle. “You can go home. I’m not coming back to you. No matter how much you grovel or beg or plead, I won’t give in.”
Spike laughed bitterly. “I know you’re a dingbat, Harm, but did you forget that the last time I saw you, you betrayed us and left the lot of us for dead?”
She gasped. “I so totally did not.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t betray anyone. You guys were mean to me.”
“ ‘Course we were.” He knocked back his drink in a single gulp. “And if you’re off otter blood these days, I’ll be meaner still.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s the rules. I’d have to kill you.”
She sputtered and backed away with her ski boots clomping against the floor.
A young male vampire draped his arm over her shoulder. “Hey, babe, aren’t you gonna introduce me?”
Suddenly finding her spine, Harm sniffed, did a hair toss, and cuddled close to her mop-headed vamp. He was outfitted, head to tow, in black snow boarding gear. “This is my ex,” she told Dirk. “The one I was telling you about. Blondie-B…er… Spike.”
Dirk smiled. “Dude, I’ve heard about you. You’re like really old, right?”
Spike frowned. “Not that old.”
“I heard you were a total bad-ass.”
“No,” Harm protested. “He’s not. He’s a… a…”
“Bad, rude man,” Spike supplied.
“Yeah, and he –“
Spike cut her off. “Is rather curious why the two of you are dressed in ski gear.”
“Dude, snowboarding is like totally my life.” Dirk gave a Keanu Reeves-like laugh. “Or, you know, unlife.”
Spike rolled his eyes.
Dirk sat on a barstool. “It would’ve been a major bummer if I had to give up the powder after I ‘fanged-out.’ “ He even used air quotes.
Spike grimaced. Good lord, had Harm found someone as vapid as herself?
Dirk caressed his black and red snowboard like it was the curve of Harm’s breast. “Then I remembered that Keystone had night skiing. Oh, and then I found out I had super, awesome night vision and could ski anywhere.” Pulling Harm up against him, he nuzzled her. “Now, we’re hitting all the resorts.”
Harm skimmed her hand over Dirk’s thigh while gazing defiantly at Spike. “We had a great time in Aspen. Dirk killed a celebrity just to get me a mink.”
Dirk nodded. “Anything for you, babe.”
“And,” she said. “I saw Paris Hilton.”
Spike signaled the bartender to refill his drink. “So what are you two snowbunnies doing here? This old rock hasn’t been a hot spot for the nobs since World War II.”
Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum then explained how they had arrived for the “bitchin’ party” planned for The Long Night. It was being held at the glacial lake, and there would be bonfires, blood sacrifires, and – if there was time – maybe some ice climbing. It was a slightly different location and itinerary than the last “Long Night” that Spike had attended but somewhat recognizable all the same.
Without asking too many questions, Dirk and Harm allowed Spike to tag along. (Thankfully, Harm had the short-term memory of a fruit-bat and had seemingly forgotten – or had never taken seriously – his threat to kill her.)
When they arrived at the lake, Spike spared a thought for the way Dru would have wanted to bask in the reflected moonlight while admiring the way the rocky peaks plunged into the snow-covered ice sheet. When, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dirk and Harm snogging, Spike thought of Buffy, and wished that he could have brought her here, to see the majestic view… and the majestic ass-kicking soon to come.
As Spike navigated his way down the hill, he decided that, other than the colorful assortment of North Face jackets, the vampires at this Long Night weren’t any different from the ones in 1910. They were still mostly drunk and stupid. And the ‘vampyres,’ the humans who romanticized the ‘creatures of the night’ were even more drunk and/or stupid if they thought they had any greater purpose here than being the midnight buffet.
Spike saw Anne’s squirrelly friend, Marvin Diego, with a girl who looked somewhat familiar. Spike suspected that he’d seen the girl around Anne’s shelter, so it seemed that Marvin Diego had talked one (and now he counted two) of Anne’s kids into his suicidal quest.
“Bugger.”
Spike sidestepped someone who blocked his view of the runaways.
“Oh God,” said Anne.
It had been Anne who he had sidestepped.
“I knew you hadn’t changed,” she accused. “ I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” She paled and then frowned. “Unless… Did Angel send you to save my kids? If he did, I’m totally embarrassed and sorry I accused you--”
“Angel didn’t send me.” But before a new storm of insults had time to roll off her tongue, Spike said, “Which doesn’t mean I’m the rotter you think I am. I’m not the villain here.”
“You’re trying to help?”
“I was considering it.”
Anne silently digested this information as Spike pulled her out of the circle of light cast by the fire.
“Now, you tell me,” he said. “What are you doing here? And tell me you’re not alone, ‘cause that would be incredibly stupid.”
“I didn’t think it would go this far.” She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Marvin isn’t really dangerous. He’s just trying to find himself. And it’s stupid, I know, but he’s desperate and I thought…”
“You could catch him before he fell into this pit of vipers?”
If Anne had looked soft and easily broken before, when the light shifted and the moonlight fell over her she looked as though she had been cast out of blue steel. “He brought two of my kids with him. He can destroy his own life, but they’re kids. I won’t allow him to take them with him.”
Spike considered her for a moment, this wisp of a woman who had a hell of a way of standing her ground.
He nodded. “Right, then.” He gave a hint of a smile.
Dirk came out of nowhere and slapped Spike on the back. “Dude! You gotta get a move on. They’re about to light the Yule log.”
Harm shot Anne a look of contempt. “A blonde. I should have known.” She sniffed. “If he asks you to carry a stake and to call you ‘Buffy’ during sex, just say no.” After sticking her tongue out at Spike, the petite vampire flounced away.
Spike pushed his hands deeper into his duster’s pockets. “It wasn’t like it sounded.”
Anne looked at him doubtfully. “It wasn’t?”
“Actually, it was. But I’d feel like less of a prannet if we pretended the subject never came up.”
“And the Yule log?”
Spike cocked an eyebrow.
She asked, “What’s a Yule log doing as part of some vampiric ritual? It isn’t a bit too cheery and Christmas-like? Or is this some kind of deliberate sacrilege?”
Thankfully, Dru, in her strangely lyrical way, had once answered this question for Spike.
“The Yule log is pagan,” he said. “It has something to do with winter and living forever. Don’t know the details.”
Marvin Diego stood in the yellow-red light cast by the fire, holding the log in his hands while announcing in theatrically stentorian tones, “We, the children of the night, the vampyres, make this offering to the ‘gens Aurelia.’ ”
Spike’s lip curled in disgust.
The flames gave Marvin an almost demonic look as he lowered the wood into the fire. “We beg for a blessing as we enter this rite of passage, as we become part of the battle between dark and light.”
The memories of the screams and blood which had followed this invocation when Dru had made it – in a twisted, goddamned joke-- drove Spike forward, making him desperate to reach Anne’s kids before it was too late.
The vampires in the midst of the vampyres morphed into game face.
“Run!” Spike commanded.
Anne shook her head. “No.”
Spike turned towards her, his own face twisting into a monstrous mask. “I said run.”
“Not without my kids!”
Grabbing Anne’s hand, Spike dove into the melee with his coat billowing behind them. Sensing danger, he stiff-armed one vamp as it charged him and then backhanded another, flinging it into the bonfire where it flew face first into the kindling and burst into a spray of dust, which crackled, sparked, and caught fire like New Year’s Eve fireworks.
Screams echoed across the ice, and Spike saw Marvin Diego fall into a sniveling, pathetic heap as Dirk wrapped his arm around the nerd’s neck and began biting.
“There!” Anne yelled over the din, pointing to the horrified teens.
Spike pulled Dirk off of Marvin, dragging the vampire by its mop of hair as it kicked and struggled. Spike dropped the ski-crazy vamp to the ground so as to pull another vamp off of one of Anne’s kids.
The young girl looked at Spike’s scowling game face and screamed even louder.
“Bloody hell,” Spike said. “I’m—“
Anne rushed forward, hugging the teen. “We’re here to help.”
Spike looked over his shoulder to Dirk’s yellow-eyed glare of humiliated rage, which signaled a head-on charge of revenge.
Spike turned on his heel, pulled a stake from his pocket, and dusted Dirk in a single fluid motion.
Harmony yelled, and the vamp, who had attacked the teens, began crawling away just as the earth split wide open.
At least it felt and sounded as if the earth split open.
The lake ice cracked, jagged streaks marring the pristine blanket of snow. Then, everything exploded upward. A geyser of water propelled giant slabs of foot-thick ice twenty yards into the air.
A primordial roar shattered the evening, causing Spike and Anne to duck and cover as a spray of ice and snow crystals fell back to earth.
“What is it?” Anne asked in a breathlessly horrified whisper.
Spike wanted to say that he didn’t know, that he hadn’t seen what had shot up with the geyser. But he had seen, and he did know.
It was a dragon.
“You’ll do it this time,” Spike said. “You’ll run when I say run.”
“You won’t need to say it,” Anne told him.
“Run!”
Spike dragged one teen to her feet as Anne shepherded the other. The four of them charged toward the cover of the trees.
There was the sound – and feel – of a rush of wind caused by the flapping of giant bat-like wings, as the fantastic creature’s roar became an ear-piercing scream. It almost debilitated humans and drove most of the vampires to their knees.
Spike chanted, “Go, go,” to the kids, pushing, dragging, or pulling them to safety until they reached the treeline.
“Marvin!” Anne said.
Spike looked at her in disbelief. “You're kidding me.”
“We can’t leave him.”
Spike shoved the teen at her. As he looked back at the disaster behind them, he caught a glimpse of Harm’s pink parka disappearing over the crest of the hill. “Right,” he said. “I’ll go.”
The dragon landed on the bank of the lake with a thud, its giant talons providing sure footing in the snow as it circled the vampires who lay curled in a fetal position, clutching their ears. The creature roared – again -- and Spike could swear that his ears began to bleed.
He touched his cheek and felt the stickiness of blood. “Shit.” And he noticed that the sound of his own voice seemed muffled. Had the dragon’s roar burst his eardrums?
As Marvin crawled on his hands and knees, the dragon whipped its tail, driving the barbed end of it into the ground, blocking the man’s path of escape. The creature gave a smoking snort that caused ice to melt and turn to steam, and Marvin’s sniveling whimper became blubbering tears.
The dragon nudged the man, turning him over, and forcing Marvin to stare up at the face of certain death. Then it turned its horned head and examined the rest of the carnage on the lake’s bank.
It filled its lungs with clean mountain air, opened its massive jaws, and spit a jet of flame that incinerated all of the incapacitated vampires on the spot.
While the creature was occupied, Spike slipped around its tail, reaching the mewling Marvin Diego. He tugged at the man’s jacket, but Marvin shook his head and refused to move. He was immobilized by fear.
“Sonofabitch,” Spike muttered, causing the dragon’s ears to perk up. The scales along its spine rose like a hissing cat’s, and it roared again. Spike refused to bend or fall to his knees, but he felt more blood trickle down his cheek to his jaw and neck.
The dragon looked at Spike, then it sniffed him. And, for a moment, Spike wondered whether it was about to lick him or – like Illyria – decide to make him its pet. But the creature’s gaze narrowed and it attacked so swiftly that Spike never had a chance to fight back.
“Spike!” Anne screamed, as the dragon wrapped its vice-like talons around Spike’s waist.
Flapping its enormous wings, it tore upward through the night sky, and then plunged into the glacial lake…
Chapter 3
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-12-30 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 07:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 07:15 am (UTC)And, once again, Dru knew what she was babbling about. Poor Spikey.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:18 pm (UTC)And, of course, Dru always seemed to know what she was babbling about.
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Date: 2006-12-30 08:43 am (UTC)every time you go off to save them something back happens...
so cute and so totally Spike.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 11:58 am (UTC)Gorgeous banner.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:20 pm (UTC)Glad you liked the fic.
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Date: 2006-12-30 02:37 pm (UTC)Still want to smack Anne though. Spike's worse than Rodney Dangerfield when it comes to getting no respect. She assumes he's on a killing spree or running Angel's errands yet she let's Angel of the slippery soul and the lack of self control stay in the same building as her street kids.
Somehow I think that being dragged into a glacial lake by a dragon can't end well.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:21 pm (UTC)Hope you like how I worked that out.
Thanks for the feedback!
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Date: 2006-12-30 03:57 pm (UTC)And Dru's prophesies always come true.... just not always when you expect them to. *g*
Nice.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:22 pm (UTC)And, yeah, people should listen more to Dru. She is always right... eventually.
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Date: 2006-12-30 08:10 pm (UTC)I always wished that AtS had let Anne and Spike meet up, so you're fulfulling a mini-kink of mine. Thank you. Very much looking forward to the rest.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 11:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:24 pm (UTC)Hope you liked the rest of the fic.
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Date: 2006-12-31 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:24 pm (UTC)And thanks for the feedback. Hope you liked the rest of the story.
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Date: 2006-12-31 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-31 08:26 pm (UTC)Hi, congratulations on your nomination to round #5 of the
You may put up a button if you like, but we don't demand it. We are very pleased to have your story/art and thank you for creating it. Good luck to you! Results will be posted March 1st, 2007.
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Date: 2007-01-07 07:26 pm (UTC)And thanks for Noel_of_Spike. It was a great community for vampy Christmas stuff.
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Date: 2007-01-08 03:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-18 08:03 pm (UTC)This made me laugh out loud and think, "We've all been there before at least once."
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Date: 2010-12-20 03:56 pm (UTC)Thanks.