Fred found him standing in front of the twenty foot Christmas Tree in the lobby, smoking a cigarette and muttering to himself. When she got closer, she realized he was reciting something. He turned so suddenly, she nearly jumped out of her skin and squeaked.
"Sorry," Spike muttered, turning back to the tree. "This is quite horrid, isn't it. Tinsel has to have been created by a demon."
"I think it's kind of pretty. Big, but pretty."
He shook his head. "Too many gaudy ornaments, too much fakery. We'd make do with a four foot real tree, a bit of colored paper streamers, ribbons and some candles. Dru used to cut out snowflakes from Angelus' good stationary." Smiling in remembrance, he touched a finger to a plastic snowflake. "Would piss him off right proper."
"You celebrated Christmas?" Fred asked, a bit surprised.
Spike shrugged. "It was Dru's favorite time of year. She held onto a lot of her human traditions. That also pissed off Angelus right proper."
"What were you reciting when I spooked you?"
"Dickens. 'A Christmas Carol', to be exact. I used to read it to Drusilla every Christmas Eve. Being Catholic her father'd never allowed her to read it. Nothing spiritual about Scrooge. Which is why the broody one tolerated it, and the pagan tree, and especially kissing under the mistletoe." He looked at Fred, saw the rapt expression on her face, and smiled wistfully. "You up for a story, luv?"
Nodding eagerly, Fred snagged a chair, he did the same, and they sat before the tree.
"Now, Christmas as we know it today was a recent celebration to Albion's shores when I became a vampire. Even then we were mostly there for the parties and family and good food and drink. Queen Vic's hubby brought us the Christmas tree, but still we didn't have much religion about the whole thing. That came later and never to us vampires."
"Still, Dru loved the tree and candles and presents, especially the presents, but her favorite was 'A Christmas Carol'. I think she liked the ghosts best of all." Smiling and taking a drag on his cigarette, Spike let his thoughts drift to the past.
~~~~~
It was his first Christmas as a vampire, but William had quickly learned that religion, Christianity, and the birth of Jesus Christ had little to no meaning to vampires.
Yet, here two nights before Christmas was his dark goddess overseeing two minions who were setting up a freshly cut evergreen in the parlor while a group of female vampires strung cranberries and made garlands of brightly colored paper.
"What's all this, luv?" he asked, coming up behind Drusilla and wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Christmas, silly boy." She turned in his arms and gave him a silky smile. "Will you put the angel on the top for me when we're done decking the halls?"
He gaped at her in surprise, but nodded. "Isn't that a bit blasphemous though?"
She just giggled and pulled free of his arms to join the women making streamers. William watched her for a few minutes, happy that she was so happy, but also baffled.
It all seemed so...human.
Slipping out of the room, he went in search of some answers, and found Angelus in the library, going over the estate books, a glass of blood next to him, a cheroot clamped between his teeth. "What do you want?" he asked, not looking up.
"We have a Christmas tree." As if that said it all.
Apparently, it did. Angelus slowly looked up from his books and then leaned back in his chair. Taking his cheroot from between his lips, he stubbed it out, then nodded to a chair across the desk. William sat down a bit hesitantly. Since finding out earlier in the month that this vampire whom he'd begun to revere was sharing Drusilla's bed whenever *he* wanted, William had been a bit hesitant around him.
"Darla and I never took on the trappings of the season until Drusilla joined us. It keeps her happy to mix the pagan with the religious. If we don't play along, she throws a fit as violent a one as you have yet to see." Angelus' fingers drummed lightly on a book, then he pushed it across the desk. "You can take part. She likes to have this read to her on Christmas Eve every year."
William picked up the book and noted the title and author. He'd read it once to mother. It had been a bit secular for her taste.
"Does Dru expect presents?"
Angelus chuckled. "What woman doesn't?"
Cursing, William bounded for the room and headed into the night to find someone to rob and provide him with a gift.
*****
Weary but successful in his goal, William returned to the townhouse just before dawn and slipped into the never-used pantry to hide the satin lined and fur trimmed cloak and bonnet he'd stripped from his latest victim. As he returned to the entrance hall, he nearly ran over Darla who was stripping her gloves from her hands. She gave him a cool look and he dropped his eyes deferentially.
"I see Christmas has arrived," she sighed, her eyes on the tree visible through the open doors of the parlor. "I have hopes that the girl will grow out of these affectations someday. And what of you, William? Do you celebrate this holiday?"
He shrugged. "Whatever makes Drusilla happy."
She frowned. "Yes, isn't that the way it always is." Before he could think of a response to that, she swept up the staircase. William waited until he heard the door to her room slam before following in her footsteps. He hesitated outside of Drusilla's bedroom, listening carefully--not wanting to interrupt her with Angelus ever again--then, on hearing nothing, opened the door.
Drusilla knelt before the fire wearing a nearly sheer silk nightshift. She was running a silver brush through her long hair and humming a children's tune. Watching her, William felt such love fill him. He pushed aside the knowledge that she didn't love him as completely as he did her, and scooped her up into his arms.
Laughing, Drusilla dropped the brush and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Ooh, William." He kissed her, then carried her to the bed.
*****
Christmas Eve rolled in with heavy fog, an opportunity none of the vampires could miss. After wrapping his present to his lover and tying it with one of her hair ribbons, he placed it beneath the tree to join several others. She'd saved the angel for him, and he stood on a chair to place it atop the tree, then stepped down and looked at the decorations. Familiar feelings filled him.
Maybe Christmas still meant something to him, too.
His thoughts were interrupted by his beloved. Taking Drusilla's hand, William led her into the street, heading for the East End and the inevitable beggars that made up much of their meals. As they walked, their preternatural eyes cutting through the gloom, Drusilla babbled and William listened with half an ear, the other trained for prey.
Suddenly she skipped in front of him and turned, causing him to stumble to a stop. "Do you love me, sweet William?"
He looked into her huge eyes, saw a flicker of something real, and smiled tenderly. "You know I do. You're my dark goddess. I worship you."
She smiled back, twisting her fingers into her navy taffeta skirt. "It's not natural, you know. We're not meant to love."
"But we do."
Nodding, Drusilla began to dance backwards, leaving him to follow. "Oh, yes. My Angel will try to drive it from us, but don't let him. In the end, love will save us all, far away, in a distant time and place, in his city, in a tower built on legend and carved with runes." Her eyes had taken on a glazed look, one William had seen only once before.
He didn't quite understand Drusilla's visions, but he believed in them. Or, at least, believed that she believed in them. Angelus took them seriously, as well, but William didn't think he'd share this one with the older vampire.
William had learned a harsh lesson about vampire love on finding Drusilla in Angelus' bed. Love was a fickle thing, as was his beautiful princess. He'd also learned he could live with that. Her touch, her need for him, her moments of adoration, were worth the moments of misery.
"Silly boy, get out of your head and let's have a Christmas Eve feast," Drusilla laughed, and grabbed his hand to pull him down the street.
*****
Two hours or so later, William and Drusilla returned to the townhouse to find Angelus and Darla sprawled across the sofa in front of the decorated and lit tree, obviously relaxing from recently spent passion. Angelus wore only a half-fastened pair of trousers, and Darla was nearly nude. At their entry, she languidly tugged her chemise over her breasts and reached for the top to her ruby brocade dress.
"Good hunt?" the master of the house asked.
Drusilla licked her lips and giggled. "We ate children."
Smiling at her, Angelus beckoned her forward and she slid onto his lap. "Did they taste good?"
"Innocent until the last drop." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
William watched it all, trying to ignore the twist of jealousy and keep his face a mask of indifference. His eyes shifted from the entwined pair to Darla who was buttoning her skirt closed.
Her eyes glittered with anger, but she said nothing about Angelus and Drusilla, instead, addressed William. "And you, William? Did you taste their innocence?"
He shrugged. "Blood is blood. Not much of a connoisseur."
Her lips twisted into a grin. "Precisely. Perhaps tomorrow you and I could hunt together. You've been a vampire for nearly three months and we haven't had much of a chance to get to know one another." The look in her eyes told William she wanted to do more than hunt with him, and while his heart ached a bit at betraying Drusilla, he was also intrigued.
He knew full well Darla had been a talented whore in her day. Two hundred and seventy five years as a vampire surely had taught her even more tricks. As his mind drifted a bit at the thought, Drusilla slipped from Angelus' grasp and rose on shaky legs.
"Can I have my story now?"
"William's going to read it to you tonight, my darling," Angelus replied, his voice silky and full of sin.
Drusilla turned eagerly to William, switching all her attention back to him without a thought to Angelus. "My love, please? I so adore the ghosts of Christmas."
Warm emotion flooding him at the look she gave him, William nodded and went to fetch the book.
When he returned to the parlor, he found Darla sitting again next to Angelus, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. They gazed into the blazing fire, murmuring to each other. William wondered for the first time if there wasn't a tiny bit of love between the pair. As he took a seat next to the fire, Drusilla curled at his feet, her skirts tucked primly around her ankles. She looked up at him with such anticipation and joy that he couldn't help but smile as he opened the book and began to read aloud.
"I have endeavored in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humor with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it."
~~~~~
"That's so sweet," Fred declared, bringing Spike back from the past.
"About as sweet as vampires can get," he acknowledged. For over a hundred years I read that story to her every Christmas Eve, no matter where we were. I had it memorized after the first five years, but I still have the original book." He frowned sadly. "Or, I did. She kept it when she finally kicked me out."
"Do you still love her?" Fred's question was a bit hesitant, but Spike's answer wasn't.
"'Course. You don't love someone for that long and just stop. It's just...not the same. Loving Dru was easy and natural. Loving Buffy was what changed me, and now, with a soul, what I had with Dru is muted, lost to the past."
"That's sad."
"Lots of sadness if you live long enough." He smiled at Fred as he spoke, though. "Lots of joy, too. Happy Christmas, Fred."
"Merry Christmas, Spike," she smiled back.
*****
Later that night, Spike roamed restlessly through the building, a cigarette between his lips. As he walked up the stairs to the executive offices, he saw a light shining beneath Angel's door. He didn't bother to knock, simply walked in, to find Angel going over several files, a glass of blood at his side. The similarity startled Spike for a moment, then he continued into the room.
"What do you want?" Angel asked, not looking up from his papers.
Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he gleefully ashed it on the carpet. "Happy Christmas to you, too, peaches."
Sighing, Angel shoved the files aside and gazed up at his uneasy ally. "I'm trying to forget the holiday, Spike. It never meant all that much to me, even when I was alive."
"Yeah, I remember." Spike slouched down into a chair across from Angel and took a drag on his cigarette. His eyes fell on a brown paper wrapped package sitting prominently on the corner of the desk. "What's that?"
Shrugging, Angel reached for it. "I don't know. No return address. The mystical bomb squad just dropped it off." As he spoke, he carefully broke the tape and unfolded the paper without tearing any of it, which made Spike roll his eyes.
"You weren't this prissy without a soul."
"Without a soul I'd be ripping your head off...boy." Angel grinned nastily, showing his teeth as Spike gave him a disgruntled look.
Both their expressions turned to surprise as Angel pulled an old leather-bound book from the package.
"It can't be," Angel murmured.
"Oh, it is. I carried that around with me for over a hundred years." With a shaky hand, Spike reached for the tome and opened it. There was a new inscription inside and he read it, his voice trembling slightly, "Happy Christmas my Angel, my William. I will see you soon. All my love, Drusilla."
Both men stared at each other from turbulent eyes.
End?
Challenge Components:
a fic which tells the backstory of Angelus, Spike, Dru, and Darla in a way in which Angelus and Spike were never sexually involved. There can (and definitely should, I think) be hints of homoeroticism, but no actual sex acts between the two characters. This story can be told either from the point of view of the present (ie, any point in time in either series), or purely from that of the past. I have the following qualifications:
- Drusilla is Spike's sire, like they've said on the show
- There is no such thing as "claiming" in BtVS vampire lore
- The word "childe" is not to be used.