A Rough Ride


TITLE: A Rough Ride
AUTHOR: Fyre
EMAIL: Fyredansa@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: The Scourge of Europe, minus Angelus, take a little trip.
FEEDBACK: It gives me a tingly feeling ;-)
DISTRIBUTION: Just here at the mo...but anyone can have it :-) Just ask nicely ;-)
SPOILERS: None really.
COUPLE: Not exactly a couple
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: I want. I take...I get arrested for stealing!
CLASSIFICATION: Yet another part of the growing Spike/Darla series...but, this time a prequel to the rest.
NOTES: This was actually another improv from Having a Thought - Improv: Bound, crave, rain, glow - Written : 27/01/2001. Also, here, Darla displays her true maternal instincts...and to any parents who read this - don't deny you think about it every time you're on a journey!
DEDICATED: The improv group for letting my insanity loose - again!
_________________________________________

The sound of horses' hooves pounded incessantly on the stony roads, the clicking of chips of rock and earth bouncing noisily off the bottom of the carriage, the whistle of the wind through the vehicle.

It was torture to hear minute after minute, hour after hour.

Gazing absently out of the window, the vampiress' eyes wandered the skies, the glow of the full moon was barely visible behind the mask of clouds that promised heavy rain sooner rather than later.

Across the carriage from her, a dark-haired figure was curled up in a sleepy ball, dark skirts spilling around her slender body.

With a grimace of distaste, the blonde vampiress looked to the other window, only to be greeted by the neat, firm derriere of her least favourite and, by far, the most annoying of her grandchilder.

A muffled thump against the outside of the carriage door piqued her absent curiosity, as the younger vampire wriggled this way and that, his entire upper-body leaning out the small window.

"What are you doing?"

Glancing back at her, Spike's long hair whipped around his face, uncontrolled, his blue eyes sparkling. "Getting drive-by!" He exclaimed happily, dropping the body of the small peasant he had snatched up about a mile further back down the road.

Licking his fingers, he returned to his seat beside her, leaving Drusilla sleeping on the opposite side of the coach.

"You should be able to control your hunger now." She chastised him, tucking her hands into her furry muff, her eyes returning to the dark skies, her own craving for the kill increased by the scent of blood on his lips.

The sandy-haired vampire grinned devilishly, his eyes glittering. "What's the fun of that?" He demanded, folding his hands, then unfolding them.

Darla turned her attention away from him.

Sighing, the youngest of the trio stared out the window, then shuffled around in his seat, his frustration and boredom becoming apparent. Drumming his heels on the floor he sighed dramatically.

"What is it now?"

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

A momentary silence fell, then the drumming resumed, a little louder than before, his fingers tapping impatiently on the ledge of the carriage window.

"So, when will we get there?"

His grandsire turned chillingly blue eyes to him. "When we get there." She replied cryptically, wondering what Drusilla would do if she woke and found her mate as a pile of dust.

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, cupping his chin in his hands, eyes fixed on his mate's sleeping face. Suddenly, he turned to Darla again. "Can we stop for something to eat?"

"No."

Mentally, the senior vampire applauded her patience, despite the temptation to physically tear the younger vampire's head off. So far, she had managed to keep her voice at an expressionless monotone.

The drumming and tapping slowly tapered off, as the sandy-haired vampire slowly got to his feet and leaned out the window again, watching cottages and farms flit passed in the distance.

"Thank you!" Darla whispered to anyone who might be listening, but the silence lasted less than a minute.

"Are we there yet?"

She raised her face to his. "Will you please be quiet, childe? We'll arrive when we get there. Asking won't make us get there any faster." She patted the seat. "Just sit down and be patient."

Sullenly scuffing the toe of his boot along the floor, he dropped huffily into the seat next to her, crossing his arms under his jacket. "But I'm bloody bored." He muttered under his breath. "S'not fair."

"Another word from you," His grandsire's voice was low, menacing. "And I'll make you shut up, okay?"

"Fine."

"That sounded like another word to me."

Spike's eyes widened. "Oh crap!"

* * *


Stepping down from the carriage, Darla smiled brightly at the coachman. "Would you be a dear and see to my companion?" She asked sweetly, taking Drusilla by the arm and leading her into the inn where they had chosen to spend the day.

Watching the two beautiful women enter the building, he frowned. Why couldn't the healthy young man make his own way out? He had seemed perfectly capable only four hours earlier, when they had begun the journey.

Or even three hours earlier, when he – the driver – had looked back to see the young man exuberantly hanging out of the window, waving back down the road at someone lying on the road-side verge.

The coachman glanced into the carriage and promptly did a double take at the young man who was lying on the floor of the carriage.

Reaching over he tried to ignore the humiliation and anger burning in the man's fierce blue eyes, stepping back as he unfurled and straightened his lean body out with a pain-filled groan.

"Beg pardon, sir…"

Untying the gag that had been tightly wrapped around his mouth, the vampire raised an eyebrow, flexing his fingers.

"Why were you…" He gestured to the pile of cords and chains.

Spike grimaced. "When the grumpy bitch says you're bound to enjoy the journey, she isn't talking metaphorically." He replied stiffly, pushing passed the startled coachman and stalking into the inn after his grandsire and lover.


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