Fic Title: The Rose Remembers
Summary: Death isn't done with Sandford, but a Slayer and a vampire on the run have something to say about that. Spike/Buffy, Nicholas/Danny
Warnings: Violence and sexual content.
Banner number: 47 by athenamuze
Setting: About 2 1/2 years post-NFA
Disclaimer: Not ours, as much as we would like them to be.
Author Notes: This is a crossover with the movie, Hot Fuzz, but honestly, you shouldn't have to be familiar with the movie to be able to understand the fic. However, by reading the fic, you *will* get spoiled for the entire movie. Just so that you know.
Previously on Buffy: Wesley grilled Drusilla to find out that Buffy and Spike are in Sandford, and Buffy and Nicholas are training...
The story begins here.
Though she had barely broken a sweat, Buffy waved Nicholas and Danny off as they returned to Sandford, confident that, with the crossbow, he’d be more than capable of holding his own for the night. She wasn’t entirely sure about Danny, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. Sometimes, that made all the difference.
“If you’re hungry, we can swing by Somerfield’s again,” she said, walking up to Spike. He lounged against the fence, the red tip of his cigarette as it dangled from his mouth the only illumination. “Nicholas said he’d talk to the butcher so they won’t look at you cross-eyed when you order blood any more.”
“Maybe later. I’m not really hungry right now.” He flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “Though I think you and I need to have a talk.”
“Can we talk and walk?” Buffy glanced up at the velvety sky. “No sun plus lots of stars equals perfect night for Drusilla, I think.”
“Fine.” He ground the cigarette beneath his heel and turned towards the road. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were going this afternoon?”
She fell into step beside him. It helped to mask the slight hesitation in answering. “I did tell you. I went to the castle.”
“Right. You went to the castle to look for Drusilla’s latest victim. And I’m assuming that fact didn’t somehow slip your mind.”
His jaw was tight, his gaze fixed ahead and not on her. It only took a single glance for Buffy to see just how pissed Spike really was.
“So what if that’s why we were going?” she asked. “It’s not like you could’ve done anything to help this afternoon anyway. I figured you’d appreciate the sleep.”
“You could have at least let me know. You know, ‘Hey, Spike, I might be stakin’ your ex this morning. Thought you might like a head’s up.’”
“But we’d already agreed that whoever got to Dru first could take her out. Unless…” Grabbing his arm, Buffy yanked him to a halt. His normally clear eyes were dark, but the fury in them was still evident. “Unless you didn’t mean it. Did you say that just to get me off your back?”
He shook his arm out of her grasp. “That’s not what this is about. When I agreed to whoever got to her first could stake her, I didn’t mean that you should lie to me and keep me out of the loop.”
“I didn’t lie!”
“You lied by omission,” Spike countered. “I spent several months knocking around an evil law firm. I know all the ways there are to lie. You didn’t want me to know something, for whatever reason, and so you just didn’t tell me. I’m not your lapdog anymore, Slayer.”
“I don’t want you to be. Why would you think that?”
“Well, you clearly don’t think of me as being your equal in this little adventure. How would you feel if I kept information away from you?”
Every word he said only frustrated her further, until this last finally set her off.
“And here I thought one of us feeling like shit because we were fucking around while an innocent man was being tortured by your nutjob ex was enough,” Buffy snapped. “Well, I’m sorry for not wanting to spoil the morning after, Spike. Pardon me for thinking that maybe, just maybe, that could be a good way for us to start over. After all, we’ve got such a stellar record in saying the right thing when the sun’s come up and the building’s around our ears.”
“Starting over? This little jaunt out to the country has one purpose. Finding Drusilla and staking her is my priority, and I need to know what she’s up to. Fuck, Buffy, she tortured a reverend. I know you just think Drusilla is crazy, but she doesn’t leave her victims alive unless she has a good reason, and she always picks ‘em for a reason. You didn’t even think about that.”
He had a point. She hadn’t. Because nothing Drusilla made sense to her. One thing that did make sense to her, however, was how Spike saw the two of them. Separate. He probably wouldn’t have given her a second thought if she’d never shown up in Sandford.
“Then maybe you should start paying more attention to your priority and less attention to me.” Whirling on her heel, she headed for the castle, ignoring the fact that he wasn’t following her. She didn’t know how she was going to find Drusilla without Spike, but damn if she was going to ask for his help with it now.
“Now, you want to make sure you hit the heart directly,” Nicholas said, pointing to the blackboard, where Danny had helpfully drawn the figure of a man with a prominent heart in the middle of his chest. “That’s the best way to kill a vampire. Not the only way, but the easiest. Any questions?”
Detective Cartwright raised his hand. “Yeah, have you talked to Dr. Jenkins?”
“Your medication. I think it needs adjustment.”
Everybody snickered, including Danny. Fisher raised his hand.
“I thought you said vampires don’t exist?”
Nicholas took a deep breath. “I did say that. But I was wrong.”
“How do we know you’re not wrong now?” Wainwright asked.
“Because I killed a vampire myself.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, how do we know you’re not wrong about how to kill these things?”
Nicholas ignored the question and gestured at the scarecrow Walker had brought back to the station. “This is what we’re going to use to practice. Of course, vampires are much quicker.”
“And stronger,” Danny added.
“Right. Now, Danny has helpfully spent most of the afternoon gathering up stakes. Danny.”
Danny stood and began passing out the pieces of wood.
“Now, what we’re going to do is…”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Giles stepped into the room. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Not at all,” Nicholas said. “Come in. This is Mr. Rupert Giles. I’m sure you have all seen him around Sandford the past few days. I asked him here to tell you about the vampire who killed Gabriel. Her name is Drusilla.”
Mr. Giles smiled and nodded as he crossed the room to join Nicholas in front of everybody. He took his glasses off and began cleaning the lenses. “Yes, Drusilla. Before I begin though, I want to say that Inspector Angel is quite right about how to kill a vampire.”
“So who is this Drusilla?” Doris asked.
“Well, I don’t have a picture for her yet, though I emailed my associate in London. He’ll scan one of the images we have and send it back to me. In the meantime, she’s about this tall,” he held his hand up almost eye level, “and she has long, black hair. She’s obviously very pale, and well, she’s a bit mad. The vampire who turned her, Angelus, killed her entire family and tormented her mercilessly until the day she took her Holy Orders, and then he turned her into a vampire.”
Doris’ eyes widened as Giles spoke. “Does she wear very old-fashioned clothes?”
“I saw her at the pub! She tried to pull me.”
Cartwright snickered. “All right, Doris. Did she want to have you for dinner?”
“If you run into her again, be sure to avoid her,” Giles said.
“Shouldn’t we try to kill her?” Wainwright asked. “Isn’t that why we’re all wasting our time in here?”
“No, no,” Giles said quickly. “She is very dangerous and very fast. She’s already killed...” He paused. “Well, she’s already killed hundreds of people. I don’t want you to be added to the list.”
“So today’s big lesson is run away? And we couldn’t have this little meeting in the pub, why?”
“Today’s lesson is not about running away,” Nicholas said sharply. “Drusilla is the biggest threat, but she’s already demonstrated that she’s willing to…sire new vampires. If there are any other vampires around, we need to be ready for them.”
“Quite right,” Mr. Giles said. “Slaying vampires is dangerous work, but it is quite doable if you have the proper weapons and know what to do.”
Wainwright lifted his stake. “Take the sharp end and put it in the vampire’s heart. Got it.”
“How will we know if it’s a vampire?” Fisher asked. “Do they look different?”
“Yes, in fact, they do.” Giles reached for the chalk Nicholas still held. “May I?”
Giles drew three upside down V’s on the chalk figure. “Vampires have very prominent brows and ridges. They also have yellow eyes.”
“Do all vampires always look like that? Drusilla didn’t look like that,” Doris said.
“No, but most of the time, they do. Especially if they’re attacking or…feeding.”
“I want everybody to practice staking the heart before I give you your assignments for tonight,” Nicholas said.
“On the scarecrow?” Fisher asked.
“Assignments for tonight?” Both Andys rolled their eyes. “You have got to be kidding me. It’s late. We want to go home.”
“What did you do today?” Nicholas asked. “Because I didn’t see you come out of your office once, and I know you aren’t working on any cases, Detective.”
“We did plenty today.”
“They were at the pub for two hours for lunch,” Doris said.
“Thanks a lot, Doris.”
“Don’t start with her,” Nicholas warned. “I already knew that, anyway.”
“How did you know?” Wainwright challenged.
“Because I know everything that does, or doesn’t, happen in this station. Now, come up here and take this scarecrow.”
“This is stupid.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I think a good staking might relieve some stress,” Doris said with a loud laugh.
Both of the Andys strolled to the front of the room with their stakes and bored expressions. Wainwright struck the vampire first, burying his stake deep in the straw chest. “Like that?”
“Yes,” Nicholas confirmed, “just like that.”
Everybody gamely took their turn, though Nicholas could tell they all thought it was a stupid exercise. He didn’t really care how stupid they thought it was. He mainly wanted confirmation that they could find the heart with a stake. It was a lot easier said than done. Once everybody took their turn with the scarecrow, Nicholas began passing out maps of Sandford.
“I’ve marked where I want each one of you to focus. I want you to make regular patrols in these areas. If you see any sign of Drusilla, radio in to Doris. If you see anybody breaking curfew, escort them back to their homes. We don’t have the manpower to do this properly, so we’re going to have to do the best we can. Any questions?” Nicholas paused, but for once, nobody had anything to say. “Right. Let’s get started.”
It was dark by the time Spike reached the village again, and he had to resist the temptation to go back to the Swan and see if Buffy was in her room. After yelling at her about how Drusilla was his bloody priority, it didn’t make much sense to abandon his search for his sire to find her. Even if he’d rather spend the night with Buffy than sniffing around for Dru.
But he was still frustrated with Buffy. She didn’t even understand why he was so angry. She didn’t think she had done anything wrong. Of course not. Why would she think there was a problem if they fell back into their old roles? They were comfortable, in their own way. Plus, judging from the way Angel still strutted around like he was the cock of the walk, being the big boss was a hard job to give up.
But Spike wasn’t going to do that again. Not after everything they’ve been through together, and everything he went through after that. He had earned the right to be treated like her equal, not her damned minion.
“Did you make a wish?”
The words floated to him on the slight breeze, and Spike stopped in his path, banishing his thoughts on Buffy to cock his head and listen for the voice’s origin. He already knew its owner. He knew her very well.
“There were too many by the time I came out to dance, but you, you were always ready to pluck out the first and offer it to me, do you remember, Spike?”
Slowly, he turned to his right and came face to face with a surgery’s brick wall. Drusilla wasn’t there. She was on the roof. But when he tilted his gaze up to look for her, all he saw were the stars.
“I remember, Drusilla. We used to have fun, didn’t we? Why don’t you come down here and dance with me, like old times?”
“Can’t go back. We tried that once, and we both ended up in shackles.” Her voice grew fainter, as if she were moving away from the building’s edge. “Not even the faithful can break their fetters if the links are strong enough.”
Spike took a step away from the building and tilted his head all the way back. “Have you had anything to eat tonight, pet?”
Her high-pitched laughter drifted down. “Not until the stars have stopped. Run away, run away, run away home now. There shall be no supper for you.”
So he probably didn’t have to go looking for another victim—or dead body. At least, not right away. But he still needed to get her to come to him. If he chased after her, she would only run.
“But you got a bit to eat last night, didn’t you? It’s been a long time since I had a man of the cloth. How did he taste?”
“Like marigolds dipped in wine. If I close my eyes, I can still hear his screams.”
And yet, she had let him live. Why? Drusilla had learned how to hunt at Angelus’ knee, and neither of them were big on mercy. Had Buffy thwarted her plans to finish him off later? Come to think of it, her body count was much lower than he would expect.
“I bet he did,” Spike said, circling the building and looking for a way up to the roof. He found a stack of crates and began to climb. “What about the boy? Why did you turn him? For a pet?”
“He had the prettiest skin…”
As she continued to speak, her voice took on that dreamlike quality that had always hypnotized Spike, even at the worst of times. It didn’t matter what she said as much as how she said it, which was probably even more testimony to how he’d stayed with her as long as he had. By the time he reached the roof, she was pirouetting along its edge, her skirts swirling around her slim legs.
“…misses the moon.”
Spike watched her dance for several moments. He didn’t have the heart to stop her. Not just yet. Not when she looked so enchanting and wild, with the black sky above her, and the moon rising fat and silver behind her. Tearing his eyes away, he searched the roof for something that would serve as a stake. She wasn’t going to get away from him again.
“C’mere, Dru.” Spike held out his hand. He felt like the trick was a bit underhanded—luring her to her end instead of fighting her. “Come down from there.”
She laughed, tilting her head so that her hair hung in an ebony curtain down her back. “I’m waiting for my wish to come true,” she singsonged. “Mustn’t abandon the hunt before the wolf catches the prey.”
Spike took a tentative step forward, and then another. He had a feeling that she wasn’t the wolf in this particular scenario. And neither was he. So what the hell is going on? As soon as he got close enough, he reached out to touch her—grab her skirt and pull her down from the ledge. But she turned to face him, and he froze.
“Drusilla. What happened to you?”
Delicate fingers fluttered to her cheek, to the burn marks that turned her beauty into a grotesque mockery. Large eyes grew liquid, but the corner of her mouth lifted in a soft, sad smile, one that was far too lucid to disregard.
“I found the snare laid in the ground,” she said. “But there is still a trap in the way…”
To be continued in Chapter 10…