Author: Judy/Beatle Spike
Title: Dru's Chains
Disclaimer: I do not own Spike or Dru. I do own Judy, though. (Her story is archived at: http://buffy.acmecity.com/xander/292/fanfic.html)
Distribution: Let me know the address.
Spoilers: Up to Part Three of "It's Not Easy Being Princess" (also at the same address).
Dedication: Miss Stephie, because she issued the challenge.
Notes: Part One of an "origin" series. (You'll see what I mean in a few days.) Thoughts and italicized are enclosed in *_____*'s.
Judy leaned against the wall and exhaled cigarette smoke from her dead lungs, watching Dru have a tea party with her favorite dolls. She had started smoking only after she had died, because when she was alive she had heard horror stories about the results of smoking. *What the hell. I'm dead,* Judy thought. *What does it matter?*
Spike walked in and stood next to her. Without a word Judy handed him a cigarette and her lighter. Spike had bought her the lighter. It was yellow, her favorite color, which normally cheered her up, but today it only reminded her of the sun, and what she could never gain back again--her life.
Spike knew that Judy was despondent, so he tried to make her as happy as possible. *It's not her fault she's got a soul,* he reasoned. *I didn't want her to die. I thought she'd be perfect, with her Slayer abilities and being a vampire. Even if she lost one half of her humanity, she'd still have half a soul. And, after all, half a soul is better than none.*
It was all Angel's fault, even though Spike had begged and pleaded with him to make her a vampire just so he wouldn't lose Judy forever. But *Angel* was the one who drained her of almost every last drop, *Angel* was the one who made Judy what she was.
Suddenly Judy noticed that Drusilla's trunk was still open. She had opened it three days ago and had never bothered to shut it. If Dru wasn't careful, the mildew and damp would get to the stuff inside. Judy quickly crossed the room. And something metallic in the trunk caught the pale, wan light that filtered in high from the windows high above.
"Hey, Spike," she called. "What's this?"
Judy pulled the chains out of the trunk and held them at eye level. She lifted an eyebrow at the blood on them. "Explain, please."
Spike teased her, "I'm sorry, luv, you didn't put that in the form of a question. Please rephrase that and I may be able to help you."
"Spike, tell me about where these damn things came from before I rip your head off."
He held his hands up in mock resignation. "All right, all right. You remember I told you about when Dru and me lived in Maryland?"
Judy rolled her eyes. "Only about a million times. And do *you* remember that I lived in that particular state for only about seventeen years?"
"Do you want to hear this or not?"
"Yeah. Now get on with it."
"It was 1964, and the surfer craze was full-scale, even on the East Coast..."
OCEAN CITY, MARYLAND, 1964
Spike walked on the deserted Boardwalk arm in arm with his "little surfer girl". Drusilla, surprisingly, had become quite adept at the sport. Unfortunately, it was all she ever talked about now.
Dru forgot all about surfing when they got to the end of the Boardwalk and saw the stuffed sharks that were housed in glass cases.
"Oh, Spike, are they real?" she asked, astonished.
Spike quickly scanned the little description that accompanied the Mako shark. "Yes, luv, it would appear so."
Along with the Mako shark and the description of its demise was a set of chains that had strung it up when the large man-eater was caught.
Drusilla's eyes lit up. "Ooh," she said happily. She was staring at the picture of the strung-up shark. "Spike, look at all the blood. It's all around Evan's mouth and his jaw is all swollen."
Spike suppressed his laughter. "Evan, luv?" he asked.
"Yes. That's what he says his name is."
"Evan, hmm? Nice name for a shark. Although if I were 'is mum I would've picked a different name. Like Pointy or Bitey. Something more true to 'is personality."
Dru ignored him. She said, "Evan wants us to have his chains. He says they disturb 'im."
"All right, luv. If that's what 'Evan' wants."
Spike smashed the glass and removed the chains. They were still encrusted with decade-old blood in places but were relatively clean. He handed them over to his baby.
Drusilla begged, "Can we kill someone with these, please? We 'aven't done anything like that for *such* a long time."
The couple started off in search of an easy kill. They didn't have to go far, however. A blond guy holding a surfboard was standing on the beach staring at the waves.
"That one," said Dru, pointing. She walked over to him, standing a good ten feet away from him.
"Not a good night for surfing," she observed.
The guy nodded. "Bummersville," he comfirmed her statement.
Dru sidled up much closer to the blonde. "I just adore men who surf," she purred.
The guy fell for her charm instantly. "Really?"
"Well, you know, I adore chicks with foreign accents who adore men who surf." He fell into her inviting embrace and kissed her.
That was the signal. Spike sneaked up behind them and whipped the chains around his neck, strangling the blonde.
He dropped to the ground, dead, and Spike and Dru shared him for their dinner. The Slayer, a redheaded, tall girl, had come running to see the cause of the commotion.
This time Dru had a turn at the chains. The couple had her for dessert.
Later Drusilla placed the chains in the trunk that she used for all of her "special things". She said, "I want to remember this night, Spike."
Spike grinned. "I think you will, ducks. And so will I."
"It wasn't the first Slayer I bagged; nor was it Dru's first. But, you see, it was the first we got together, which made it all the more special."
Judy, who by this time had finished her cigarette, was enraptured. "They updated the blurb thingy on the Mako. Said that the chains that had originally strung up the shark were stolen in 1964. I always did wonder how that happened." She started to laugh.
Spike joined her.