Her Saving Grace, 6/?, Spike/Fred, R

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Title: Her Saving Grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Spike/Fred, mentions slight Fred/Wesley
Spoilers: Angel S5
Chapter: Six of ?
Prompt: #24 - Crabapple for tamingthemuse
Warnings: Character death (not the permanent variety)
Summary: An accident one night changes Fred's entire world. Shunned by the people who should care the most, she turns to the one person who does care, and finds something beyond friendship.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. Not even my mind these days.

Word count: 2944


Pretty by mentalme85; thank you sweetie!

Previous parts here





Pretty by garnettrees!

Chapter 6: Moving On From All That's Left Behind

Filling the papers out wound up actually being easy. They made photocopies before they took the papers back into the woman, and waited while she made the transaction. Before she knew it, Fred's account was empty, null, and void. Everything she had was in Spike's account, where Angel couldn't touch it.

Funny how the vampire Angel had told her to be careful of was the one she trusted blindly, and her gallant vampire in shining armor had become a knight of 'justice', one she feared.

The next day was overcast and edging towards rainy. “Perfect day to get your apartment cleared out,” Spike told her. “Even though the bank's not gonna tell Angel what's up with your account, it's gonna hit him eventually. Let's get the one-up on him before he thinks of your place.”

They made their way over to her apartment in fifteen minutes. Walking through the doors had been half a minute at best, and another two minutes to scale the stairs to her floor. Maybe another thirty seconds through the hallway to her door.

It took Fred ten minutes to put the key in the door, and another five to actually turn it to unlock it. Spike waited patiently throughout it all, and when she'd finally gotten the door opened, he reached over and took her hand that was suspended in midair. “Just one last thing,” he told her softly, before he moved both of their hands against the door. It creaked open slowly.

Fred didn't honestly know why it had taken so long to get the key in. She hadn't really been afraid of Angel being in there; that wasn't even a possibility. She'd never invited him in because he'd never come by.

Of course, now that she was deceased, it probably didn't matter. He could get in.

Which meant she could get in too, but that was contrary to the fear that had held her outside for a quarter of an hour: of not being allowed in her own place, her own beautiful apartment, her once upon a time safe haven.

The door had long since been open, and Spike continued to hold her hand. She glanced up at him, knowing before she saw him that she'd have a supportive smile and an easy patience. Things you wouldn't expect to find from Spike, who was Mister Punk. But they were there all the same.

She wondered if she was the only one to see those things.

She stepped forward warily, glancing around the apartment. The air smelled stale, overly so, and she didn't know why since it hadn't even been a week since she'd last been in here. There'd even been some crabapple scented oils she'd just put out, so...

Oh. Right. Vampire now. She remembered.

“Crabapple?”

Fred turned and shouldn't have been surprised that Spike was still so close. He'd let go of her hand, but he was still right by her side. Literally.

“You were mumbling something underneath your breath,” he explained. “So...crabapple?”

“The scent in my...well, the scent that was in my apartment,” she said, turning around to shut the door and lock it. No sense taking chances, though she could probably easily defend herself.

She wondered exactly how vampires could do that. Was there some sort of subconscious learning process that happened when they were sired? Like a shot of instant knowledge, or a special deal from TV. “Become a vampire for only $19.95, but if you order now, we'll also give you instantaneous knowledge of how to fight! Yours absolutely free!”

“Fred, pet?”

Fred blinked and glanced up at him, giving him a sheepish grin at his amused expression. “You had some interestin' faces there,” Spike told her. “Was it concernin' the crabapple or...?”

“Not really,” she said, turning her gaze to the room. Completely untouched; everything was where she'd left it. Even her slippers she'd gotten out for later after the club were still dutifully positioned by her bed.

Thunder rolled outside, and lightning flashed, illuminating the rain drops that continued to come down on her windows. She wasn't sure if there was sewer access near her building, but she hoped so. She didn't want to walk in that. It was pretty to look at, but wouldn't be fun to walk in. Unless, of course, vampires had an instant drying thing going for them, which would require heat, and heat would probably remind the vampires of fire, so she was betting that it wasn't so.

“My aunt had a crabapple tree,” she explained, before Spike thought she'd disappeared in her thoughts. Judging by the smile on his face, he knew she had, but he was at least letting her change the subject without touching on it. “It was my fortress in the spring, and when my cousins got back from their private school in the summer, we'd duke it out to see who got it. I'd get so many bruises from those crabapples.”

Spike gave her a concerned frown. “Those things can do more than bruise; shouldn't have been throwin' those at a lady.”

Fred ducked her head and blushed. At least, she thought she did. She wasn't sure if she could anymore. “I wasn't exactly a lady at the age of thirteen, Spike. And I was usually the one who started the throwing.”

That turned his frown upside down, and she grinned as he chuckled. “Bit of a tomboy, were you?” he said, nodding towards her sofa for permission to sit.

“Just a little bit, yeah,” she said. “And you can sit or do anything you like in here. You don't have to ask.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the sofa, and he reminded her of a panther, slinking into position. Except it'd have to be a sleepy panther, though Spike wasn't exactly sleepy, and she had to stop this internal babbling or she'd never get anything done.

“Still, crabapples aren't normally the scent of choice,” Spike said. “I'd have pegged you for a lavender type of girl, or maybe roses. Or something else that was sweet.”

“There's a lot of memories with that scent,” she said, glancing around the room. More than just the crabapple tree back in her aunt's backyard. When she'd moved in with Gunn, he'd gotten her crabapple scented bodywash, after she'd told him the same story of the fortress tree.

Wesley had bought her the scented oils as a house warming gift when she'd moved into her apartment. She remembered having closed her eyes to simply let the scent drift over her and around her. It had been the first time in a long time that Wesley had actually smiled.

She missed him. She wondered how he was.

“Hey now; no sad faces.”

Fred blinked and returned to the present moment, where Spike was leaning forward on the sofa, his eyes soft with concern and caring. He began to say something, then stopped, shaking himself briefly before rising. “Where should we start?”

The kitchen wound up being the first place they began. Most of the things in the fridge had to be pitched, but some of it was still good. Spike grabbed plates, and helped her create a bunch of odd meals and snacks with what was left in there. They mixed broccoli with olives and bacon, and she giggled even while she ate it. It wasn't nutritious for anyone, human or vampire, but it still tasted good.

Next were all the cookies and things in her pantry, which Spike immediately gathered up into the brown paper bags in her pantry. “Most important thing to bring: the chocolate,” he declared, and she found herself giggling again. The image of Spike, the Big Bad, devouring cookies instead of people and being a true “Cookie Monster” caused her to laugh so hard she lost her balance and wound up on the floor. Spike just shook his head, sighed, and muttered something about “some people”.

Next was the bedroom. Fred wanted to do her clothes by herself, especially her underwear, but didn't know how to tell him that. He seemed to pick up on the vibe, though, and thankfully said he'd get everything moved towards the door. Fred immediately did her underwear first, grabbing a few things and stuffing them into her suitcase.

She felt a small thrill of excitement, like she had when she'd run away at the age of nine. It was almost unexplainable, how she'd felt then and how she felt now. The adrenaline rush through the veins as she shoved things into her suitcase and thought about stuffing more things in. Of moving quickly, not sure if someone will see what she's doing, tossing in everything she holds dear and not bothering to see that it's folded or anything. Spontaneity and the thrill of it.

After the underwear, she glanced through her closet quickly, grabbing a sweater and a pair of jeans to replace her torn clothes. She'd borrowed Spike's things the other night to sleep in, and had worn the duster to the bank to cover the tears, but enough was enough. She wanted solid clothes, and she wanted to erase the last memory of that first horrible night and morning.

The clothes were yanked off and tossed in the corner, and her new clothes went on, giving her a refreshed feeling automatically. A few more pants were pulled out of the closet, along with some tops, and they were tossed into the suitcase as well.

Her pajamas were simple enough to find and add to the pile, and she paused only for a moment as she found her faded yellow top mixed in with them. Her study shirt, her comfort shirt of so many years. The glow in the dark bee with its flower smiled at her from the fabric, before she quickly tossed it into the suitcase. She wasn't leaving without that.

Next were the harder things to sort: the trinkets on her dresser. Photographs, her little box of memories, jewelry, makeup, and her glasses. She'd put contacts in for her night out at the club. She'd taken them out and tossed them at Spike's, but her glasses weren't as easy to throw out. These were more solid, and though she hadn't named them or anything, there was an emotional attachment there of some type.

She unfolded them and placed them on her face, tucking the ends behind her ears before letting the pads rest against her nose. Her vision was blurred through the lenses, but suddenly, everything cleared out again. She blinked, glancing over the top rim of the glasses, then back through the glasses. Nothing changed. It was as if she were looking through clear plastic, or untouched glass. Her vision was perfect either way.

“You won't need them,” Spike's voice said gently from behind her. She turned and saw him smile before he stepped into the room. “You'll find that you'll want them on, though. The weight on your face is a comfort, sometimes. I still have my spectacles. Always keep 'em with me.”

He reached out and lifted the glasses from her face, like he'd done several nights before. She'd felt her heart pounding wildly before. It wasn't doing that anymore, for obvious reasons, but his tenderness still rocked her to her core. She inhaled sharply as they were lifted from her face, and his eyes turned and caught hers. The most beautiful blue she'd ever seen, and she didn't think she could get enough. He was her hero, her knight in black leather, her gentle vampire, her sire, her...

Fred gasped suddenly, and didn't even notice when Spike put her glasses on the dresser. She did notice when he took her hands in his, because hers were shaking and his weren't. “Fred? Luv?” he said, and the endearment cut through her frightening thoughts, calming her enough to get the words out.

“I...My...I kept thinking...” Okay, maybe not.

Gentle hands guided her towards the bed, and she was glad he wasn't running after the moment they'd had and what could only look like a shock and rejection of sorts from her. “Kept thinking what?” he asked, once she was seated.

Fred closed her eyes, took a deep (and unneeded) breath in, then opened her eyes and released the breath all at once. “Among the thoughts in my head, I thought of you as my...my sire,” she whispered. “I mean, I know what a sire is, but I know you weren't the one who turned me, so why...”

“It's because I've been helpin' you and takin' care of you,” Spike explained, looking relieved. “That's why. The demon's accepted me as your surrogate sire of sorts. Since your actual sire isn't here at the moment, and won't be at all once I find him,” and the gold flashes in his eyes weren't as surprising as they could've been, “your demon's lookin' to me because I've fed you, sheltered you, and basically claimed you as my own.”

“Oh,” Fred said, not really sure what else to say to that. She didn't really mind that Spike's demon had claimed her demon as its own; she felt better knowing that she belonged. She felt like there was an empty hole inside of her, but it was filled whenever Spike was around.

“What other thoughts did you have in that pretty little head of yours?” Spike asked curiously.

She debated for a moment over not telling him. She wasn't sure that he'd want to hear them, despite the fact that he'd asked. Not telling him the truth would be the easiest, simplest route, and no one would get hurt. She didn't like taking chances and going out on a limb for...for what? She wasn't even sure what she wanted if she told him.

The debate was only for a moment, and she found herself saying, “I was thinking of you as my hero and my vampire, and the 'my sire' sort of followed those up.” She couldn't really believe she'd said it, something a wild and out there as that. I'm completely blaming this on my demon, she thought.

Spike blinked, and she blinked back. “That's...not what I was expectin',” he admitted, and she grinned. “But I'm certainly not gonna argue the point.”

“I was hoping you wouldn't,” she said, and he smiled shyly. Was she flirting with him? Did she like him like that? She didn't really know at this point.

He stood, offering her his hand. “Let's see about gettin' this all packed up,” he said, gratefully changing the subject. “We'll take the first trip of essentials, and then come back for anythin' else. You got everythin' you really need out of the drawers and closet?”

She nodded. “I should. But like you said, second trip later on.”

They carefully packed away all of her treasures on her desk, and grabbed some of her shoes she couldn't bear to part with. They were comfy, and comfy shoes were important whether you were a vampire or a human.

She wound up with two suitcases, and found that lifting them was fairly easy. She lifted one, then the other, then both at once. It was like lifting two cookies, it was that simple. She found herself grinning, and began lifting them up and down rapidly. She giggled at how light they were. No one had told her that the perks to being a vampire could be fun.

A throat being cleared behind her caused her to stop and turn. Spike had his eyebrows raised at her, but there was a grin growing on his lips. “Having fun?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said impishly. What was she on? Was it her adrenaline rush from earlier? Was it her demon coming through? She felt ready to tackle a mountain lion, if it would just wander down the streets of LA and show up at her door. She felt like flying through the night, racing through the streets, bouncing on her bed, and dancing until she dropped. She usually didn't feel this way without sugar or caffeine, and even then, it typically didn't last very long.

She really wasn't acting like herself, but she stopped that train of thought with another one: what defined her these days? Everything had changed. She had changed, too.

Just not in the way that Angel thought she had.

Spike chuckled. “You, my dear Fred, have had too much sugar.” He paused, thinking it over. “Or I haven't had enough yet.”

“I don't think it's the sugar,” she said. “It's like I'm over-hyper, and I have to bounce. I can't explain it. I wasn't like this ten minutes ago, or even five!”

“I know,” he said, smiling. “It's the energy from your demon. You're not lockin' it up like Angel locks his up. You're lettin' it out in a way, lettin' it play and move and be free while still respectin' the part that's uniquely you. And that's what we want to do.”

Fred pondered this for a moment. “So...bouncing is good?”

“Bouncing is good,” Spike agreed, taking the things by the door and opening it for her. “After you, m'lady,” he said, bowing as best as someone could while carrying several boxes and bags.

She gave a curtsy with her two suitcases, then bounced out into the hallway. She heard him chuckle, heard him close the door and lock it with the key that she'd forgotten about in her bouncing, and then felt him bump her shoulder before hurrying down the hallway ahead of her. “Hey!” she called, running after him and using his laughter as her guide to following him.

~Nebula

Comments

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

AAaack

Your "previous parts" link doesn't have all the previous parts, and I've gotten behind. Help!

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Eep! It should! The one link has chapters 2-5 linked. Or, you could head on over to the story at Just Rewards (http://www.athenewolfe.com/justrewards/viewstory.php?sid=362) to read all about it. ^_^

Enjoy the catch-up, and pray that the new prompt will lead me into this instead of another 1/1 shot ficlet. *crosses fingers*

~Nebula