Author: Kay Tee maybeshedoes@yahoo.com
Website: http://www.oocities.org/maybeshedoes//front.html
Distribution: Take it, but tell me where so I can visit.
Rated: R, for mild depression, dead and dying children, and violence.
Category: Series
Feedback: Please please please
Original Character Warning
Spoilers: 'Go Fish,' but nothing very significant.
Disclaimer: In my dreams I'm Joss... but during the day I have to face the cold hard truth-- I'm a hack who steals characters. But I'm not giving them back! Or I am, just don't sue me, all I have are speeding tickets and student loans.
Summary: Spike can't take care of Druscilla all by himself, so he gets himself a slave to help. Eve drifts.
Author's Notes: More books! I know you missed them. As usual, they're real, you should read them instead of this... etc. The quote is from I Am Legend, which is credited somewhere in this story.
Eve was startled out of her thoughts when a large, cold hand wrapped gently around her neck from behind and tilted her head back. She looked up into the glittering eyes of Angelus. He studied her passively for a long while before promising in a low voice, "I'm going to fix you."
"Fix me?" Eve repeated.
A calloused thumb massaged the scar on her cheek. "Fix you. I'll find a sorcerer who'll remove the scars. All of them. Except mine." He smiled at that, leaning in to lick across his mark on her neck.
They were interrupted by a soft cough from the doorway. "Mm, Angelus, got a problem out here," Spike said.
Angelus snarled, turning, but he saw the seriousness on the younger vampire's face and followed Spike into the living room.
Alone again, Eve turned back to the kitchen sink, where she had been scrubbing one of Druscilla's blood-soaked gowns. She blinked, realizing that she must have been staring into space for a long time-- the water had gone cold. She heard voices rising in the next room, but ignored them, returning to her work.
Since all of the minions had been killed in the warehouse fire, Angelus had decided to 'replace the help.' The only problem was his insistence on turning high schoolers. He would introduce himself to prey as a friend of Buffy's, and if they knew her, they were turned. High schoolers were fairly useless as minions. They all had a sense of laziness and rebellion, and were not fond of orders. They were also without any practical knowledge or fighting skills or anything that might make them useful around the house. Because of all this, they were constantly getting into trouble, and Angelus ended up staking two out of three of them.
He had also neglected to mention the 'don't eat the slave rule' yet, but Eve was sure he'd get around to it.
***
Spike sighed restlessly, staring out the single window in Eve's room.
"Can't you hunt somewhere they won't see you?" Eve asked. She knew from experience that when Spike was bored he got violent. There was no telling what that could mean in these circumstances, with a dozen unpredictable fledges roaming the premises, and Angelus and Druscilla out hunting together, leaving Spike to the reheated blood they assumed Eve still provided him.
Spike turned on his heel. "No, I can't bloody well hunt where they won't see me! You think Angelus doesn't already have at least one minion keeping an eye on me?" Spike petulantly threw himself into the wheelchair and lit a cigarette.
Eve leaned against a nearby wall, tapping her fingers idly against the plaster.
"Stop that," Spike ordered.
The truth was, Eve was just as bored as her former master, but his constant presence in her room made her edgy, his bad mood wearing off on her. She knew that the real reason he was with her whenever Angelus went out was to protect her against the new minions, but somehow his company was still more irritating than comforting.
Spike tapped his fingers noisily on the arm of his wheelchair.
"Christ!" Eve stormed over to Spike, covering his hands with her own. "We. need. to. do. something. with. ourselves," she ground out, half-hoping Spike would suggest sex, half-knowing he wouldn't touch her-- not with Angelus's mark on her, not with the burns.
Spike just glared at Eve, and she sighed tiredly, relaxing.
"You got anything to read?" Spike asked as Eve situated herself on the floor at his feet.
"No," Eve answered shortly.
Spike watched her remove his boots. "What're you doing?"
"Keeping my hands busy so I don't rip out my own throat in boredom."
Spike chuckled. Eve massaged his feet as she had done so many times before, but now he could really feel it, could flex under her touch... it was nice.
"At least when I ran things, you were never bored," Spike pointed out.
Eve snorted softly.
"What's that mean?" Spike asked indignantly.
"Oh, please, Spike," Eve scoffed. "Working for you was the same as working for Angelus. Sometimes I'm so busy I can't even find time to sleep, and sometimes I'm so bored I want to knock myself out for a little relief."
Spike smirked. "That's it then? Busy or bored?"
Eve rolled her eyes at him, not bothering to reply.
They remained in silence until she finished both his feet and put his boots back on. Eve sat back, staring up at Spike as he lit yet another cigarette. At this rate, he was going to go through his entire supply before she found a minute to herself and could buy him more. She thought about warning him, but discarded the idea.
Spike sighed loudly, bored again.
Eve picked a topic for conversation at random. "Angelus said he could fix me. He said a sorcerer could probably wipe my scars away."
Spike met Eve's eyes levelly. "That'd take some pretty powerful mojo," he warned. "I wouldn't mess with that if I could help it, if I were you."
Eve nodded to herself. "You used magic to fix Dru," she said pointlessly.
"That was Dru," Spike shot back.
Uncomfortable silence descended again in their shared prison. Finally, Eve offered, "Tomorrow, I *will* get some free time. I'll get us something to read. Any requests?"
"Yeah." Spike perked up, leaning forward. "Information. Talk to the slayer, find out what they're doing about Angelus."
Eve hesitated. "I don't think they like me right now, Spike..."
"Well *make* them like you. You never had a problem getting what you wanted before," Spike insisted.
Eve nodded, frowning.
***
Giles jumped about a foot when Eve walked down from the stacks. He hadn't even known she was there, and frankly he wasn't too comfortable about seeing her.
"Eve," he greeted the slave as calmly as possible.
"Giles." She nodded curtly. "I'd like to borrow these." She held up four books for him to inspect.
Giles hesitated, but then figured that it wasn't as if any other student would miss the books if they were never returned. He filled out the appropriate cards. "I Am Legend, by Richard Matheson; Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury; Story of the Eye, by Georges Bataille-- good lord, I didn't realize we carry *that*-- and, uh, Masters of Death: The SS-Einsatzgruppen and the Invention of the Holocaust, by Richard Rhodes." Giles filed the cards and looked back at Eve, who was watching him expectantly. "I suppose you are choosing literature for Angel now," he guessed.
"No." Eve shrugged. "They're for Spike and me-- we're bored."
Giles's eyes narrowed. "I'm glad you have the luxury of boredom. Angelus spends every night killing more and more of the students here-"
Not in the mood for a lecture, Eve interrupted. "What do you want me to do? Stake him myself? And if I fail, what happens to me? Why don't you ask the *slayer* to stake him, hmm?"
"Buffy is doing everything in her power to fight Angel," Giles defended his slayer. "You must realize that he is not the only terror on the Hellmouth; she only has so much time."
Eve rolled her eyes. "Bullshit-"
Now Giles interrupted. "You haven't been of much-- or any help, actually." Eve opened her mouth to reply, but Giles plowed on, revealing his darkest suspicions. "Do you really expect me to believe you knew nothing of Angel's plans to kill Jenny?"
Eve sighed in frustration. "Angelus wants to kill everyone Buffy knows-- he wants to drive her mad. I should sort through the bodies? Actually, a lot of the time I do sort through the bodies, so give me a break."
"Do you really think you deserve a break?" Giles came around the counter to stand above Eve. "You think we ought to rescue you when you are clearly free to run away at your leisure? You come here insisting we take action, meanwhile you do nothing."
"Hey, I'm on a 'get through today' basis, here. I *can't* fight them. You know how, you have the weapons and the manpower."
"We're doing the best that we can at the moment." Giles was just barely holding onto his temper.
Eve wasn't even trying to control herself, tears of exhaustion and stress threatening to fall. She dragged her hands through her hair, twisting them in faded blonde locks and holding on, looking almost like an insane person. "You're not doing *anything*. The closest you came was when you set me on fire, and I'd like to thank you very much for that, by the way."
Giles clenched his jaw against the words he very much wanted to say.
Eve sighed, looking down at her bare feet, wishing she had shoes and stature to go with her brand new clothes. "I don't think we should see each other anymore," she said quietly.
Giles smirked at her terminology. "I quite agree. Neither of us seems to have any information to share."
Eve nodded, solemnly offering her hand. Giles was surprised, but shook her hand, agreeing that they would no longer speak.
Eve wiped her face with her sleeve. "I'm sorry, it's been a long week. Is there a bathroom near here I can use?"
"Yes, just out the double doors and to your left." Giles watched the girl leave, then turned back to his research.
***
Eve put her books on the top of the soap dispenser and ran cold water, splashing it onto her face. She stared into the white porcelain sink for a long while before reaching for paper towels and roughly drying her face. She threw the towels away and turned to pick up her books, but caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
She turned to get a better look, and just stared at her reflection, awed by its complete lack of resemblance to any image of herself that she could remember. She had been sixteen, and a girl. Now she was on the cusp of her twentieth birthday, and a woman. Her face was hollowed from hunger, her eyes deeper-set than she remembered. Her neck seemed long in its new thinness, the skin stretched tight across soft muscles. The scars she could see-- Druscilla's scratch marks, the claims on her neck, the burns-- didn't obscure the beauty that still lingered. Her skin was sallow from long nights and short days, her lips chapped, her hair a scraggly mess, but the beauty was there, if she looked for it, and she really had to look for it.
Sometime while Eve had been staring at the mirror, the bathroom door had opened and closed, though she barely registered the sound. Now the toilet flushed, and Eve broke her study of herself to see Buffy. Of course the slayer would be here, this was the nearest bathroom to the library, but...
"Oh, Eve, I almost didn't recognize you," Buffy said uncomfortably. She was startled to see the other girl; Eve looked sickly pale. Then Buffy noticed the scars. Willow had mentioned that Eve was in the hospital at the same time as Buffy, but hadn't said why.
Buffy cleared her throat awkwardly. "I mean, are those new clothes? They look really nice..." She looked Eve up and down, frowning at the dirty, exposed feet.
Eve smiled slightly. "Thanks. Spike bought them for me. Well, I doubt 'bought,' but..."
"Don't tell me." Buffy put one hand up. "I don't want to know."
Eve smirked. "Okay."
Buffy washed her hands, but couldn't help noticing the odd way Eve was studying her. "So, um, what's up?" She asked.
"Not a thing," Eve answered, still watching Buffy.
"Oh. I noticed you have, uh," Buffy gestured to the area on her own face where Eve's scars were concentrated. "Did Angel do that to you?"
Eve frowned. "No. Didn't they tell you? Giles set the warehouse on fire-"
"Oh my God!" Buffy gasped, remembering that night, dry with horror. "I didn't even think... Are you okay? Well, I mean, of course you're okay. Very okay, actually. I can't believe you're already healed." She stared suspiciously at the scars.
Eve laughed sadly. "Angelus knows... stuff. About healing people. Which is kinda surprising when you think about it."
"Yeah," Buffy grimaced, "I guess he's more of the injuring type." They both stared at the floor for a minute before Buffy asked, "So, you were here to talk to Giles? Give us the 411 on what Angel's up to?"
"Naw, I was hoping you guys could tell me what's going on, actually." Eve shrugged.
"Oh. Sorry, we've kinda got a fish monster problem at the moment, and Angel's been laying pretty low lately..." Buffy stopped at Eve's incredulous look. "What?"
"I guess Angelus has been avoiding you or something, but he hasn't been laying low. He's, like, amassing an army of minions." Eve shook her head. "You don't want to turn your back on him too long, he'll take advantage."
Buffy took a deep breath, trying not to respond too much to the news. "I will kill him soon. I just..." She didn't meet Eve's eyes.
The slave remembered the way Angel used to describe Buffy as the most alive, vibrant human being he'd ever met. Buffy certainly hadn't faired very well under the stress of having to deal with Angelus. In fact, she was looking overly pale and thin, her eyes hollow and sad. Eve thought watching Buffy was like looking in the mirror again.
"Angel and I used to be friends," Eve blurted out. Buffy looked up sharply, brow knotting in confusion. "He used to talk about you all the time," Eve continued. "You made him feel human. Like he was worth something, 'cause otherwise, he really didn't have the best self-esteem."
Buffy smiled at that. "He never told me you were friends."
Eve shrugged. "Yeah, well. He wasn't proud of it. I think he felt like he should rescue me or something. But if he ever did... Actually, I don't know what would have happened. I probably wouldn't have stayed in Sunnydale though."
Buffy nodded. "I guess this town doesn't have the best memories for you, huh?"
"I don't think there is any place that *does* have good memories for me," Eve admitted. "But my point is you made Angel feel all these nice things, and then he lost his soul, but he still felt them." She met Buffy's eyes seriously. "He still loves you, and it's driving him... out of his mind."
Buffy was skeptical. "I don't think Angel loves me anymore-- vampires can't love; they have no soul."
"What's a soul have to do with it?" Eve asked.
Before Buffy could answer, the bathroom door opened and three giggling girls poured into the room. Buffy and Eve were shoved unceremoniously out of the way as Harmony and two of her followers crowded around the mirror.
Eve collected her books and turned to Buffy. "Hey, all I'm saying is... watch out for him. He wants to do something big, bigger than just hurting your friends. I don't think he's got any ideas yet, but he's been getting... quiet. That's just never a good sign with vampires."
Buffy glanced nervously at the group of girls, but they weren't paying attention to the slave and the slayer, and hadn't overheard. "I'll keep an eye out," Buffy promised. "And hey-- sorry about that time I hit you and everything."
Eve smiled. "Don't worry about it. You were upset. And I shot Xander, so we're probably even."
Buffy smiled too. "So, friends?" She offered lamely.
"I don't think so." Eve turned to leave. "But... maybe not enemies."
***
Eve quietly let herself into the mansion, but was immediately attacked.
The vampire that jumped on her back had been made from a three-year-old, and was tiny. He bit her viciously wherever he could reach, which happened to be the back of her head.
Eve dropped her books, screaming in surprise and trying to throw the thing off her back. Just as her masters and several minions rushed into the room, Eve finally managed to throw the small vampire backwards, through the heavy curtains, and into the sunlit garden. The creature's screams echoed through the arboretum in a child's voice.
Eve shuddered, trying to shake off her shock, when Druscilla angrily launched herself at the slave. Druscilla knocked Eve down, digging into the human's forehead with fingernails that Eve had sharpened herself. Eve struggled against her mistress, more than half tempted to throw Druscilla through the curtains too, but she was saved from making that decision when Angelus yanked Druscilla up, tossing her across the room.
Eve blinked stupidly from her place on the floor as Angelus reprimanded Druscilla. He pointed to Eve and reminded his childe, "Eve's mine. You don't harm her unless I say so." He turned to the minions. "That goes for the rest of you too."
"But Angel," Druscilla whimpered, "she killed my baby, and you let us play before."
"Not without my permission, Dru," Angelus said harshly, furious. He spun around, looking down at Eve. "And you. Where have you been?"
Eve gulped, watching Angelus notice the books that were scattered around her. He smirked maliciously. "So, you've been to see our Rupert. How's the old man holding up?" His anger seemingly dissipated, Angelus bent to pick up one of the books. He opened to a random page and read, "He looked at the bookcase across from him. All the knowledge in those books couldn't put out the fires in him; all the words of centuries couldn't end the wordless, mindless craving of his flesh." Angelus looked up from the book and grinned, wicked.
Eve inhaled deeply and waited.
***
Spike hadn't seen Eve around the mansion since Angelus had taken her upstairs to punish her for sneaking out, and her absence was starting to worry him. He would have gone to see her himself, but the door was bolted from the inside, and only Angelus had a key.
Spike would have insisted on being let inside, but he had more pressing matters to worry about, which was why he was swallowing his pride and visiting Angelus.
The older vampire was sprawled in a decadent leather chair, his feet propped on his mahogany desk. In one hand was a goblet of fine Irish Whiskey, in the other hand was the book he had read from earlier, nearly completed now.
Spike sat in the doorway of Angelus's room, watching the dark-haired vampire ignore him. After half an hour, Angelus finished the book and his whiskey. He put them both down and turned to Spike. "Was there something you wanted?" He asked in irritation, but he already knew. In all the time Angelus had known Spike, there was only one thing the younger vampire would be patient for. One person, rather.
"Yeah," Spike answered, rolling into the room a little. "I want to talk to you about Dru."
"Really," Angelus folded his arms across his chest, smirking. He hadn't thought Spike would be so foolish as to confront him about the vampiress before Spike was fully healed.
"She turned that vamp, right? The kiddie?" Spike prodded.
Angelus's brow knotted in confusion. He hadn't expected Spike to care about that.
"Angelus," Spike said seriously, "you have to watch her. She has these fits where she *has* to turn the toddlers."
Angelus thought back to the souled nights he'd spent watching Eve destroy evidence of Druscilla's proclivity for turning children. "So?" He shrugged. "Let Dru do what she wants, she's a big girl." He paused pointedly before adding, "She can make decisions for herself."
Spike rolled right up to the stronger vampire and insisted, "She's gonna do it every night if you don't watch her."
Angelus kicked the wheelchair away. It rolled backwards haphazardly before banging against the wall. Spike determinedly took control of the chair again and went right back into Angelus's personal space. "You want to give the slayer a reason to come after us, fine. But if anything happens to Dru..."
Rolling his eyes, Angelus stood up so he could tower over Spike. "Dru can have whoever she wants-- Buff'll never even notice."
Spike's jaw was flexing; Angelus could see the muscles clench and unclench. That was a sure sign Spike was taking this whole matter very seriously, though Angelus couldn't understand why. There was always the fact that child-vamps were a pain to train, but other than that... unless that was the problem, and Spike was worried about Eve. Spike, who for years had been allowed access to the slave that now belonged to Angelus...
Angelus's low growl was interrupted when Spike explained hurriedly, "She'll turn a swarm of her little 'dollies.' Even the morons on the Hellmouth won't miss that." Angelus advanced on Spike, who refused to move. "Angelus, it's why those gits were after her in Prague." That stopped Angelus. He frowned thoughtfully, and Spike continued, "If *you* tell her to quit it, she might actually listen."
"I'll... talk to her." Angelus was already fingering his belt good-humoredly. "Get out."
Spike took a deep breath, not bothering to exhale, and rolled out of the room.
Angelus went to the doorway and bellowed for Druscilla.
***
Needing an escape from the sounds of his love's agony and pleasure, Spike decided to pick the lock on Eve's door. She heard the clumsy click and undid the bolt for him, letting the door swing open silently. She turned wordlessly to climb back into her pile of blankets, and Spike rolled into the room.
Eve's lips were a little overly-swollen, but other than that she seemed uninjured. Even the scratches on her forehead were closed and faded. Spike briefly wondered what happened to humans who consumed this much vampire blood on a regular basis, but he shook that worry off.
Eve stared straight up at the ceiling, silent. After a moment of waiting for her to acknowledge him, Spike started fuming. "You're just like bleedin' Angelus."
Eve turned. "What?"
"Sitting there, waiting for me to tell you what I want so you can throw me out again." Spike would have stormed off, or rolled out in a huff anyway, but he didn't have anywhere else to be.
"Spike," Eve started dreamily, and the vampire sighed loudly, because he had no patience for Eve when she was in this mood. "Do you think that anyone would ever want to... know me. I mean, if I was free, and still had the scars and everything?"
Spike frowned. "Nothing to worry about," he assured Eve. "You won't ever be free." She nodded and turned to look at the ceiling again. Spike sighed long-sufferingly and slithered out of the wheelchair. He crawled into Eve's pallet, arranging the slave's body over his so she would keep him warm. "It's nothing to worry about," he said again, kissing Eve's forehead. She tightened her arms around him and they held each other tightly, silently.