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tamingthemuseTitle: Time is a Thief (Verse Drabble)
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 430 - Scrambled Brains
Words: 565
Spike lounged back on the headboard watching Drusilla where she sat at the foot of the bed completely enraptured by the glow of the television, distracted in the middle of a moment of passion. He had long since grown used to her wandering attention, but her childish enthusiasm for the news in the last decade or so was manic.
Drusilla was watching the News with a single minded focus she was unable to muster for anything else. She was always seated primly in front of the telly, tuning in just as the costumed set made headlines. She was entranced by their dashing heroics and brightly colored costumes. She had even tried once to convince Spike to try on some tights. She'd been in a snit for weeks after he'd harshly refused her.
It used to be that heroics were kept to the foolhardy and overconfident. These days heroes could hear the silence of a vamp's heart from a mile away, fangs would shatter on their invulnerable skin and they could be cut to ash with a glance. Not to mention the aliens. For thousands of years demons was respected by the innocent God fearing masses. Now, they were obsolete and the horrors of the era had advanced with the times and tech.
The world had started outsourcing to other planets for it's heroes and monstrous beasties. It was enough to give a vamp a complex.
"Look, Spikey. The red-breasted Robin has outgrown his nest."
Spike tore his eyes away from Drusilla for a moment to glance at the television. He didn't care much for heroes and couldn't keep them straight. "His costume's blue, luv."
"It wasn't always."
"S'that so? And who's that with him? Got a right scary mask on him for a hero." It wasn't often that Drusilla remembered he was there when she was watching her program. Even if he didn't care, she was trying to share her passion with him and watching the news together was a much better outlet for her obsession than trying to get Spike in a costume.
"The Red X. A mark smudged in blood. Screams and cries in the night."
"Doesn't sound like much of a heroic sort."
"He's pain and loss made flesh. Ohhh, Spike. He was ours once. The leftover morsel, scraped off the plate and stolen away by bats."
Spike focused on her more intently at that. "Oh? Do tell pet."
"There was a golden girl and another of fire and a lost little boy abandoned in the dark. He was so lonely for so long, but a pretty little birdy found him and he became a bat like all the others. Birds can only live with bats for so long before they need to stretch their wings. The Light tried to burn them, but he was sheltered by the dark. Lost souls in the night together, standing strong."
"Is that so?"
"Daddy marked him. He tasted him and found him too sweet, so he sent him away to become bitter and dark. It is time for him to come home to us. He doesn't belong to the bird and the bat, he belongs to the Hellmouth."
"Now, that does sound interesting. Angelus doesn't often let his food live. He must remember a bit of catch and release that went too far. I'm sure he'd love to hear what happened to our lost morsel."
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 430 - Scrambled Brains
Words: 565
Spike lounged back on the headboard watching Drusilla where she sat at the foot of the bed completely enraptured by the glow of the television, distracted in the middle of a moment of passion. He had long since grown used to her wandering attention, but her childish enthusiasm for the news in the last decade or so was manic.
Drusilla was watching the News with a single minded focus she was unable to muster for anything else. She was always seated primly in front of the telly, tuning in just as the costumed set made headlines. She was entranced by their dashing heroics and brightly colored costumes. She had even tried once to convince Spike to try on some tights. She'd been in a snit for weeks after he'd harshly refused her.
It used to be that heroics were kept to the foolhardy and overconfident. These days heroes could hear the silence of a vamp's heart from a mile away, fangs would shatter on their invulnerable skin and they could be cut to ash with a glance. Not to mention the aliens. For thousands of years demons was respected by the innocent God fearing masses. Now, they were obsolete and the horrors of the era had advanced with the times and tech.
The world had started outsourcing to other planets for it's heroes and monstrous beasties. It was enough to give a vamp a complex.
"Look, Spikey. The red-breasted Robin has outgrown his nest."
Spike tore his eyes away from Drusilla for a moment to glance at the television. He didn't care much for heroes and couldn't keep them straight. "His costume's blue, luv."
"It wasn't always."
"S'that so? And who's that with him? Got a right scary mask on him for a hero." It wasn't often that Drusilla remembered he was there when she was watching her program. Even if he didn't care, she was trying to share her passion with him and watching the news together was a much better outlet for her obsession than trying to get Spike in a costume.
"The Red X. A mark smudged in blood. Screams and cries in the night."
"Doesn't sound like much of a heroic sort."
"He's pain and loss made flesh. Ohhh, Spike. He was ours once. The leftover morsel, scraped off the plate and stolen away by bats."
Spike focused on her more intently at that. "Oh? Do tell pet."
"There was a golden girl and another of fire and a lost little boy abandoned in the dark. He was so lonely for so long, but a pretty little birdy found him and he became a bat like all the others. Birds can only live with bats for so long before they need to stretch their wings. The Light tried to burn them, but he was sheltered by the dark. Lost souls in the night together, standing strong."
"Is that so?"
"Daddy marked him. He tasted him and found him too sweet, so he sent him away to become bitter and dark. It is time for him to come home to us. He doesn't belong to the bird and the bat, he belongs to the Hellmouth."
"Now, that does sound interesting. Angelus doesn't often let his food live. He must remember a bit of catch and release that went too far. I'm sure he'd love to hear what happened to our lost morsel."
