Her Saving Grace, 4/?, Spike/Fred, R

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Title: Her Saving Grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Spike/Fred, mentions slight Fred/Wesley
Spoilers: Angel S5
Chapter: Four of ?
Prompt: #20 - Pygmy 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: 2066

Previous parts here

Pretty behind the cut.





Pretty by spikeshunny; thank you so much sweetie!


< --- >

Collecting the insurance ended up being the easy part of the next day. Fred tasted pig's blood for breakfast: she found it an odd taste, but it wasn't really so bad. Of course, she hadn't had any other blood to compare it to, so she couldn't really make her statement on it yet.

She faintly remembered something much better, something heavenly, but she must've dreamed it: nothing could taste that perfect.

After she finished, Spike got her bundled up in his duster. “I look ridiculous,” she sputtered. “And it's your duster! I couldn't...why do you want me to...”

“Relax, pet,” he told her. “Fledges get cold faster: they don't have enough warm blood in their system, and they're still tryin' to ease off of their own warmth not bein' there anymore. You'll get used to it.”

“Did you?” she asked. She remembered him shivering in the lab as a ghost.

Spike sighed. “No, but...it's a long story. At any rate, just wear the duster. It'll keep you warm in the sewers.”

“The sewers?” she asked, crinkling her nose.

He chuckled at her face as he opened the door. “Welcome to the new way to travel,” he said.

They stepped out and into the sewers. The mind was a brilliant machine: it could rewind to replay the good moments, and fast forward to go over the bad, really icky, horribly smelly which got worse since her nose was ten times more powerful, memories.

The sewers were bad, and that was the end of that.

They finally made it to the basement of Wolfram and Hart, and she was surprised that the basement had a door and everything. It was as if they were expecting people to use the sewers as entry-ways. “'Course they do,” Spike told her when she asked them. “Too many of their clientele need to be here but either can't go out in sunlight, or they shouldn't be seen in sunlight. You've seen some of the demons here.”

She had to admit, it was a nice thing to have.

They made their way up to the financial office, where Spike asked to borrow the phone. The demon at the desk nodded, and then fell off. Well, that's what it looked like, at any rate. She watched in surprise as the demon, not even the height of the chair he'd been seated on, moved around the desk to flip a switch, before he returned to his stool, climbing up with a eerie amount of grace for someone that short and plump.

Spike made the call to the insurance company, being short and firm with an accent she'd never heard. He described himself as a police officer at the scene of death, where a Ms. Winifred Burkle had died suddenly and unexpectedly. Fred shifted uncomfortably in her shoes, and tried desperately to block out his voice. She knew she was dead, but...she still didn't like it. She fiddled with her fingers, played with her hair, tapped her feet, did everything to keep herself occupied while he talked.

A hand suddenly reached over and took hers, and she glanced up at Spike. He was still talking on the phone, short and firm and differently accented, but his thumb stroked over her skin ever so tenderly, and she started to relax.

Finally, he hung up. “They'll fax over all the paperwork,” he said. “Once we've got that info, we'll call up someone else at the company.”

“How exactly are we going to get the money, though?” Fred asked, frowning.

Spike just smiled. “Watch and learn, pet. Watch and learn.”

The paperwork came through a few moments later, and Spike redialed the number. “I'd like to make a claim on a life policy,” Spike said, his usual cocky tone back on. “Name of Winifred Burkle. Someone said she'd gone.”

Fred could hear the other person through the phone, which made following the conversation much easier. Maybe there were perks to having really good hearing. “And your name, sir?”

“William Atford,” Spike said, waiting a moment as the man on the other end searched.

After another moment's pause, the man came back on. “I'm sorry sir; you're not listed under the policy.”

“Well of course I'm not,” William said, sighing. “I'm the lawyer for her parents. They don't want to have to deal with this, obviously.”

“I'm going to need some credentials, sir,” the man said.

“Dial Wolfram and Hart in Los Angeles, California,” Spike said immediately. “Ask for William Atford. Or ask my secretary to fax you over my master's degree, if you'd really need that. I'd be more than happy to fill out any paperwork you might need, which, of course, I'm sure there'll be loads of. At least I won't have to be the one punching it all in.”

The man sighed. Spike turned and winked at her. “I'll call the law firm later to confirm your employment status,” the man said. “I assume you'd want the funds wired directly to your firm?”

Fred's jaw dropped. “Yes, I do. Let me hand you over to our Financial Services Representative, and he'll handle it. Thank you.”

He handed the phone and the faxed papers to the demon, then turned to Fred, whose jaw was still dropped low. “Paperwork scares people more than the bloody plague of Europe ever did,” Spike said, chuckling.

“Is there a William Atford here?” she asked.

He nodded. “Pleasant demon on the fifth floor; did a few odd jobs for him here and there. We bonded 'cause he's from London himself. He's a forgetful sort; it'll be all right.”

“Wow,” she said, after a few moments had passed and she'd digested this. “That's...really good.”

He grinned. “I am at that.”

“The funds are being wired through,” the short demon said, hanging up the phone. “Which account are they being transferred to, and will you want the papers back?”

“This one, and yes,” Spike said, handing over a bank card. He turned to her, frowning. “Did you have any funds in your own bank account?”

She nodded after thinking it over. “There's some in there, why?”

“We need to get it out, fast,” Spike said. “Your account's run through Wolfram and Hart's pay stub, and Angel could take it all out if he wanted to. We need to empty it out before he finds out that we've done it, because then he'll start lookin' for us.”

Fred's heart sank, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Wonderful,” she mumbled. She hated this: Angel had been her friend, and now...

Spike wrapped his arm around her. “We'll get through,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I've got you safe and sound, all right?”

“...Okay,” she said softly. His smile widened a little, and he took the bank card and the papers from the demon before heading out. As they left the office, her ears picked up on an odd crunching sound. She glanced back and stared as the demon began munching on fingers.

“Um...” she started, but Spike led her away towards the stairwell.

“He's a pygmy demon, pet. Short and nasty tempered little thing, and he'll eat his own kind faster than you can say 'munch'.”

Fred shuddered. “You know, I should probably consider that just fine, considering I'm a vampire now, but...no. It's still gross. And...very much so.”

They reached the lab floor and stepped inside. Everything was quiet, though the lights were on. “My things are in my office,” Fred said, heading up the few stairs into her room. Photos were scattered across the desk, along with a box she'd never unpacked. She was glad she hadn't; it made moving everything that much easier.

The photos and assorted papers were placed in the box, and it was much lighter this time around than the other. Another perk to being a vampire. She just had to keep thinking of the positives, and eventually, she'd get used to it.

Something scraped across the back of her neck suddenly, and she jumped and whirled around, only to find no one there. “Ow,” she whimpered, reaching up to feel where her skin was shredded, and was surprised to find no blemish or wound. Weird.

“Fred, we've gotta go, now,” Spike said urgently. Fred didn't even stop to think about it; she grabbed her box and headed down to meet him. Two steps away from the exit, and Angel stormed through it, blocking their way out.

Spike stiffened behind her, and the scraping feeling began again, only this time slower and softer. So that's what it had been: it would've worked better as a notification system if she'd been notified of what it had been notifying her about. It made sense somewhere.

“Where are you going?” Angel demanded.

Fred clutched her box closer. “Came to get her things; we're leavin', no worries,” Spike said shortly. “I'll make sure...”

“She's not going anywhere with you,” Angel said through clenched teeth. Spike got even more tense, and Fred's fingers began to dig into the poor cardboard box. “I don't trust you, Spike.”

“Trust you even less,” Spike snapped. “After what you did...”

“Don't I get a say so in this?” Fred said, glancing at Angel. “You didn't even want me. You thought I was going to eat my friends, which I wasn't, and I thought you were one of those friends, which I guess you're not. I haven't changed, Angel. I'm still Fred,” she said, pleading with him to believe her. “I mean, I still like science, I think that demons eating fingers is gross, and I still care about you guys.”

“You have changed, though,” Angel persisted. “It's impossible for you not to have. You're a vampire now. Once you discover your demon, that inner beast, you can start fighting it. I'll show you, I promise. We'll quell the rage and channel it towards something else.”

“What rage?” she asked, confused. “I don't feel any rage. A little disappointment and hurt right now, but...no. No overwhelming desire to start snacking on the population. Maybe I'm a slow learner, but...”

Angel's eyes narrowed. “You're lying to me,” he hissed, reaching for her. She gasped and backed away, only to watch Spike's fist slam forward and knock Angel flat on the floor. That same fist uncurled to grab her arm, hauling her fast towards the exit doors.

“Run, now,” he said, his voice low. She stole a quick glance at him and found a realization there, along with that same look from before she hadn't been able to understand. What's going on? What am I missing?

They hurried down the stairwell, and she was pleased when she didn't run out of breath. Okay, she had no breath to run out of, but it was a positive thing that she had the stamina and strength to keep going and not feel weary.

It was a better thing to think about than Angel and their encounter with him.

“Fred!” she heard him holler, the door to the stairwell above them slamming open. She ducked through the door at the bottom as Angel began running down after them. They were into the sewers long before he hit the last stair, and into the maze of horrible scents before he knew which route they'd taken.

She kept running, her feet hitting the cement beneath her silently. If her heart had been beating, she would've bet it would be hammering right about now. Hammering with fear and hurt and shock. Where was her Angel, her gleaming knight? The one who had saved her years before?

One little bite, one single night, and everything had changed.

She slowed her pace, her breath hitching despite it not needing to. Then she was sobbing, tears rolling down her face, her chest tightening as she tried not to make any noise. He could be close, could be coming after her with a stake and...

“Shhh,” Spike whispered, wrapping his arms around her when she began to cry harder. “It'll be all right.”

“W-Why?” she managed in between sobs. “I...I didn't...”

“I'll explain when we get back to the apartment,” he said quietly. “I promise. It might not make it hurt any less, but...it might explain why he's bein' the way he is.”

Comfort. He was offering her comfort. She nodded, ready to take it, and they headed towards his apartment.

~Nebula

Comments

[lilithbint.livejournal.com]

One little bite, one single night, and everything had changed
*sniff*
I am really impatient to hear what Spike has to tell her now. Love how protective he is towards her.

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

I'm hoping that I'll be able to explain it well! It's a theory I've actually had for years when I first watched the shows, so...*crosses fingers*

I'm really glad you've been enjoying it so much though; thank you! ^_^

~Nebula