Failings--6

Spike rolled over in his sleep, reaching for his lover sleepily. then opened his eyes when he felt her side of the bed was empty.

"Erin?" He heard something crash in one of the rooms, and he sighed, yanking on his jeans as he went to go see what she was up too.

He found her by the dead fire, crouched in front of the cold ashes. "Now, then...what are you up too?" He knelt, wrapping his arms around her waist and growling softfly in her ear, "Why don't you come back to bed?"

She was drawing a strange symbol in the ashes, a circle interloped with lines and a large, pentagram in the center, "What are you doing?"

"Dies irae, dies illa, solvet saeclum in favilla..." she murmured, and he dropped his arms, straightening as she did the same. "Dies irae, dies illa, solvet saeclum in favilla..."

"Um...pet? Latin not my best subject...last time I tried to translate, I came up with 'Debase beef canoe..."

"Quantus tremor est futurus, quando judex est venturus," she said, looking off into the distance as if in a trance.

"Erin?" He eyed her almost warily, then jumped in surprise when a crack of thunder rang out behind them.

He turned, his eyes widening when he saw the floor glowing green, thin strings of light arcing out towards them as it began to swirl.

Erin watched it calmly while Spike backed away, "Come on, luv...that's our cue to leave."

"Solvet saeclum in favilla," she whispered, reaching out for the light. Spike leapt forward as the light touched her, and she shrieked, the green tendrils searing into her skin, leaving black marks.

"DIES IRAE. DIES ILLA SOLVET SAECLUM IN FAVILLA! TESTE DAVID CUM SIBYLLA! QUANTUS TREMOR EST FUTURUS! QUANDO JUDEX EST VENTURUS!" Erin shouted as she plunged into the light, and Spike roared as it flashed red and exploded outwards, sending him flying backwards across the room.

He slammed into the wall in a daze, and when he forced his eyes open, Erin was gone.

"Shut the bloody hell up," he growled at them, but they ignored him, "Erin! They're doing it again!"

The redhead peeked down the stairs, trying her hardest to contain her own giggles, "Don't be so sensitive, darling...it's...a nice look for you..."

"You did this on purpose," Spike growled at Giles, who looked at him innocently. "It's not my fault that you didn't have your watch."

Erin came down the stairs, wearing a black shift dress, sighing, "Spike...honestly...it's not that bad..."

Xander collapsed, laughing hysterically, onto the couch at the vampire's outburst, and Spike growled again, glaring at them, then took a deep breath when Erin laughed softly. "Oh...don't be that way. It's not that bad...and think about me! I have to go into public with you like that!"

Spike gripped Erin by the arm, pratically dragging her towards the door, "I'll be calling the gallery in an hour! You better be there!" Giles called after them, and Xander grinned at him as the door slammed shut.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Buffy asked Giles as he looked at her over his tea cup, "Now...why would you think that?"

Buffy sighed, "He's going to be mad at me...I told him it was a chance for some male-bonding time."

"Yes...well...next time he wants to dye his hair, I'll put something a little more permanant in the mix," Giles grinned evilly, and Buffy shook her head. "He's going to snap and kill us all...yay."

"It's really not that bad," Erin assured him, still smiling, and Spike glared at her, "Erin...I'm being subjected to the most humilating experiences of my unlife...compared to that man, Angelus was a freaking saint!"

"I haven't had five minutes alone with you," he complained, "It's always either him, Joyce, the Slayer, the wolf, or..." he shuddered, "The witch or the whelp." He paused for a second, "Lots of 'W's' in there, ever notice?"

"What?" Spike frowned, glancing at his watch, "We're already late for the reservation..."

She gripped the wheel and jerked it, and he yelped, righting the car before it could go up on the curb, and let it idle, "What the bloody hell was tha-"

She moved swiftly, straddling his lap and catching his moving lips, effectively stopping them.

His hands immediately moved to hold her against him as they kissed, and he groaned into her mouth as she ground against his cloth covered erection, starting to really hate the tux he was wearing as he mentally went through all the attachements he'd have to remove.

She purred against his throat as she shifted on his lap, and he growled, sliding the hem of her dress over her thighs, caressing the smooth skin of her buttocks, then frowned, looking over her shoulder, "What the bloody hell kind of knickers are those?"

Erin blushed, despite her position at the moment, "Um...Buffy's idea...no panty lines..."

She shook her head before kissing him again, her tongue thoroughly exploring his mouth till he was moaning against her lips. "Can we continue this discussion when I'm out of them?" she asked coyly, and Spike dropped his head against the seat, "Give me a second, luv...I'm savoring the moment..."

She laughed softly, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, slipping the straps of the dress down her shoulders.

Spike kissed the soft half-globes that peeked up from the top of her bra, his hand splayed against her lower back, supporting her as she arched towards him, her head falling back as he sucked a nipple through her bra, his free hand kneading her other one.

She gasped his name lightly and wriggled against him as he pressed up against her, his erection rubbing against the cotton cover of her thong, and she moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders.

They both froze as someone knocked on the window, and Spike's eyes widened as she hastily slid off his lap, righting her dress as he rolled down the blackened window, "What?" He growled shortly, and then grinned sheepishly, "Um...evening, Officer..."

The cop shined his flashlight into Spike's face, then aimed the beam at Erin, raising an eyebrow, "May I see your IDs?"

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Erin complained as they pulled up in front of the gallery, and Spike shrugged, "Well, really didn't feel like getting arrested for trying to bone a minor in my bloody car. What kind of moron springs for a fake ID and puts someone's real age on it?"

"That would be my dear Uncle," She reminded him with a scathing look as he gave the keys to a valet, then helped her out. "Scratch it, and I'll kill you," he growled threateningly at the bored teenager, who just shrugged, then peeled out.

"You really didn't need to handcuff him to a stop sign, though. I think knocking him out would have sufficed. Plus, writing 'pig' on his forehead with a permanant marker was a bit over the top," Erin continued the argument as they went up the steps, and Spike sighed, "So sue me. You don't mess with a sexually-frustrated vampire."

Erin rolled her eyes with a small sigh, glancing at her watch, "And we're late. Joyce is going to kill us!"

"No, Joyce is going to tattle on us. Giles is going to kill me," Spike said morosely, "And to top off the evening, I'm probably the only vamp in the world, 'sides Peaches, with a severe case of blue balls."

"Oh...poor baby," Erin said in mock sympathy, adjusting her slightly ruffled dress with a sigh, "Let's go face the horde."

"I don't know why I have to be here," he grumbled, and Erin rolled her eyes, "You painted the pictures, so you have to show up."

"Don't call them pictures, pet. You make it sound like I opened up a coloring book and stayed in the lines with my big crayons."

"Quite an accomplishment," she teased lighter then she felt as they entered the gallery amidst a swirl of black and white, "I feel like I'm in a penquin convention."

"Penquins piss me off," Spike muttered beneath his breath, and Erin raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"All snotty in their permanant tuxes..." Spike shook his head, "Never mind...and stop looking at me like I flipped."

"Well, at least there's some color in this place," she touched his currently bright-green hair, and he scowled as Joyce came towards them. She froze in place, her smile disappearing as she stared at Spike's head, "What in the world happened to you?"

"That does it, I'm going home," Spike turned to make beat a hasty retreat, but Erin grabbed his arm, "Hello Miss Summers. How is your evening?"

"My sympathethies," Joyce smiled brightly, "Don't worry, I covered for you. He doesn't know you were a whole ten minutes late...in which I hoped nothing happened..."

"Uh-uh..." Joyce eyed them warily, wondering what their defination of taking care of things was exactly.

"Don't worry, mum. All body parts are in their rightful places," Spike assured her, and Joyce nodded with some relief, taking his arm, "I need to borrow him for awhile, dear. There's some buyers who want to meet the artist of my favorite picture."

Spike glowered as Erin giggled at Joyce's poor choice of words, "Be my guest..." she frowned suddenly, "Not the one of me, is it?"

"The very one," Joyce frowned, "Makes me wonder what kind of people want to purchase a painting of a young girl crucified..."

Spike groaned again, "Don't leave me with her, pet...you don't know these people...they're wolves."

Joyce tugged on his arm lightly, and Erin gave him a small wave accompanied with a smirk that he didn't like, "Enjoy, love. I'll be standing here."

Spike hung his head, "Could this get any worse?" He muttered, breaking the number one rule of the Hell Mouth. Never, ever ever ask rhetorical questions of that nature.

It was worse then Spike could imagine. Joyce dragged him around to all the buyers, who demanded to know what his inspiration was, while at the same time eyeing his 'choice' of hair color doubtfully.

He was about ready to stake himself by the time Joyce released him and he ventured out to find Erin, growling when he find her surrounded by several men.

Unlike at the Bronze, here she was among a much better element that waltzed instead of grinded, and Spike was grateful for that as he went to reclaim his date.

"I'm cutting in, buddy," he growled at the man Erin was dancing with, and he was about to protest till Spike's eyes flashed yellow at him, and he decided that bowing out gracefully was a good option.

"Hmm..." Erin appeared thoughtful as she rested her hand on his shoulder and his arm encircled her tiny waist, pulling her closer then really necessary for the dance, "Is that a choice or just a rhetorical option?"

"Rhetorical," he growled, nuzzling her throat, "Sorry to say it, luv, but you're stuck with me for life."

"However long that may be," she said without thinking, and Spike's head jerked up, his eyes blazing. "Must you bring that up?"

"I'm supposed to be the one sore about the lifespan, not you," she reminded him, "Considering I'm the one who got short-sheeted on that account."

He growled again, letting go of her and stalking off the dance floor. Erin sighed, shaking her head as she followed him. Bloody hell...

Joyce looked around, sighing expansively when she couldn't find a sign of Spike or Erin. Giles is going to have a fit, she thought worriedly, already deciding not to tell them.

She entered the room where several people were looking at Spike's picture, and a young woman with black, curly hair stopped her, "Who painted that?" She asked, and Joyce frowned, taking in her appearence, wondering at the old-fashioned red dress she was wearing, and the dreamy, not quite-there look in her eyes.

"Naughty William," the woman shook her head, looking upwards, then leaned towards Joyce, conspiratorally whispering, "They say that he's with a Slayer...a bad, nasty Slayer who took my Spike away...Miss Edith says she should be punished."

"Miss Edith says they are here," she held up a doll with charred, china features, and Joyce blanched, backing away, "Um...I'll get him...you wait right here..."

Drusilla's hand suddenly shot out and Joyce gasped as it closed on her throat, lifting her into the air, "Miss Edith says you're not being honest. You want to tell on me."

Joyce tried to shake her head in denial as Drusilla vamped out, and she easily tossed the Slayer's mother into the crowd, and she slammed into several people, luckily cushioning her fall.

She snarled, and on her signal, several vampires swarmed to her side, all dressed to the nines, "He'll come for me," she crooned to her doll, holding it to her breast, "He always comes to me."

Erin found Spike furiously smoking just outside the back door, and she sighed, glancing at the several butts littering the ground at his feet, "A bit stressed, darling?"

He growled in her general direction, "I can't bloody take much more of this, pet."

"THIS!" He snapped, gesturing at himself and her, "I can't take being treated like a sodding teenager by the Watcher, and I can't take the way you don't fucking care whether you live or die!"

"How can you say that?" She asked, wounded, "I care very much. I just chose not to let it throw a black shadow over my life...and Giles' behavior is none of my fault. I did not create him..."

Spike silenced a bit, looking at her sadly as he flashed back on his dream, "Yeah, pet, I know...but I worry. You know I love you and I don't want anything harming you."

She smiled, coming towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck, giving his lips a peck, "I know, love. And I think you're sweet for that, but we both know that with my job status, harm's pretty much a given. However, I do intend to live as long as possible, and do the things I couldn't do before. Live my life, be happy, and since I know there's something better for me out there once I'm gone, I don't fear death so much anymore."

Spike smiled down at her, kissing her forehead affectionatly, yeah, but what is there for me after my heaven dies? He thought wistfully, nuzzling her throat, "Marry me, luv."

She laughed, and he lifted his head in surprise as she swatted his chest, stepping away, "Oh, come on back inside and stop kidding around. Joyce is probably going ballistic when she can't find us. She probably thinks we're doing naughty things back here."

Spike frowned as Erin disappeared back into the gallery, "Was that a yes or a no?" He wondered aloud, then sighed. Bloody hell...

Erin froze, her eyes widening as she walked in on a sea of carnage. Paintings and sculptures were covered in crimson blood, and a large, slimy drapery of entrails was flung over a sculpture of some Greek Goddess.

People were screaming as they tried to flee from the vampires, and she winced as a man's throat was suddenly torn out near her, spurting his blood all over her. She growled, grabbing the stake out of her purse and stabbing a vamp in the chest as he passed near her.

"Guess art gallerys are out for me," she muttered to herself, sending a spin-kick towards a vampire charging her, "I mean, really...you people don't step in here for the course of your lifespan, yet when I'm here, it's suddenly a big attraction! What is up with that?"

She fought almost carelessly. Minions were not usually a problem for her, considering her part-vampiric orgin. And she had the advantage of endurance. When she got severely tired, all she had too do was have a quick bite, and she'd be almost back to full fighting strength. However, at the moment, with the amount of vampires swarming the place, that would be almost impossible.

Erin did a backflip off a rip-off of a Monet painting, her heels slashing down into vampire's face just before she landed. She swore as a heel snapped off on impact, then quickly kicked it off, striking another vampire in the face. She removed her second shoe, whirling and planting the stilleto in a vampire's chest, grinning as he dusted, "Fashion victim...so sad."

Spike slid into the room on a pool of blood, looking around doubtfully. His kind was slaughtering the people Erin was trying to protect, and he was torn.

He couldn't very well go against his nature and help his woman kill his people...but he also couldn't stand back and watch her fight by herself. Oh...fuck...

He opted instead to help the surivivors and stay out of the fight unless needed. He grabbed a man who was running past him, "Help me get the others out!" He ordered firmly while the man stared at him through a gore-streaked face.

The man nodded, still dazed as Spike punched a vampire that was trying to feed off a woman and pushed her towards the exit, clearing a way for them as the humans started to follow the man who looked like he knew what he was doing.

Erin looked up, nodding in approval as Spike helped the surivivors. She hadn't expected him to help in a more direct manner, but she didn't look down on him for it. She knew that he was a vampire and she didn't fudge the facts and assume just because he loved her that he should go completely against his entire nature.

She staked a few more vamps, then paused when she heard a low moan, her eyes widening when she spotted Joyce laying in a corner, covered head to toe with blood. Oh God!

She made her way towards the downed woman, dropping in front of her, searching for wounds. Joyce's eyes fluttered open and her hand found Erin's, "It's not mine...I'm fine..." she assured her in a breathless voice, "It's..." her eyes suddenly widened and her grip tightened.

Erin felt the vampire behind her, and whirled with a snarl, game face coming forth.

It left her just as fast as she stared at Drusilla in shock. Drusilla shook her finger in Erin's face, her dark eyes boring into Erin's, delving into her mind, "Naughty Slayer, touching my Spike...stand up."

Erin obeyed, her eyes wide and unseeing, and Drusilla giggled girlishly, "Be in me," she whispered, swaying back and forth like a snake charmer, "Be in me..."

Spike managed to get most of the people out, and returned to the main hall. He glanced around at all the dead bodies, and piles of dust, frowning when he didn't see Erin fighting the rest of the vamps milling around.

His dead heart suddenly clenched in his chest. The only reason Erin wouldn't be fighting was if she was dead. Erin! Bloody hell!

His head suddenly whipped to the side as he heard a coy laugh, and then his eyes widened as Drusilla appeared, dragging an unconcious Joyce Summers through the blood on the floor, and then she dropped her arm. Spike was relieved at least to see she was breathing, and the blood he smelled didn't appear to be hers.

"My Spike's been a bad boy," Drusilla tsked him, shaking her head like she was chastising a child, "Bedding Slayers and making them love him...naughty, naughty, sweet William."

His eyes darted away from hers when he felt her tug on his mind, swearing inwardly, "Where is she, Dru?"

She pouted with a sigh, "She needs to be punished, my pet. Bad Slayer...killing her kind, feeding from them," she shook her head again, "All bad little girls need spankings...daddy taught us that..."

"Yeah, well, daddy taught me a lot of things," Spike growled, his eyes narrowing, "Namely that you're a crazy tart...where is she, Drusilla?!"

She was standing on the staircase that led to the storage levels of the gallery, a noose of thin wire around her throat as she balanced percariously on the banister, her entire body swaying back and forth.

She couldn't move forward or back. If she fell in either direction, the wire would tighten, either choking or decapitating her. "Spike?"

"Shit...baby...I'm coming..." he made a move towards the staircase, but the remaining vampires immediately blocked his way, and he swore.

"A little to the left, pet," Drusilla called and Spike let out a choked gasp as Erin obeyed, still under Drusilla's thrall and a thin line of blood appeared on the perfect skin of her throat, "ERIN! STOP MOVING!"

Erin's body shifted as she fought to obey both orders, confusion written on her features.

"NO!!!!!" Spike roared as Erin fell forward, and in an instant, he was leaping in the air. A knife flashed into his hand as it sliced through the wire just as it tightened around her throat, and she flipped in the air before hitting the ground with a sickening crunch of bones, blood pouring freely from the wound in her neck.

Spike landed nimbly beside her, paling even more as he stared at her body, lying lifelessly, all limbs bent as if boneless.

Drusilla laughed happily, clapping her hands, then paused when a low rumbling echoed in the room. She frowned, glancing towards Spike, who lifted his yellow eyes slowly to meet hers, the rumbling deepening.

Her eyes widened as Spike threw his head back, letting out a deafening, animalistic howl of rage and pain. The other vampires tensed at the display of power and control, and Drusilla looked towards them as they flocked towards the stronger of the two masters.

His fangs flashed as he roared again, and the remaining vampires charged towards Drusilla, obeying the primal order given by the enraged vampire.

Drusilla screeched, turning tail and rushing out the doors with arms extended like some B-movie horror heroine, striving to escape the murderer by running through the woods like a complete idiot.

Joyce pushed herself upwards, watching as Spike, still in game face and still snarling in rage picked up the small, blood-covered redhead, sprinting out the doors and too the street.

Joyce moaned softly, slowly stumbling to her feet, and towards the phone, leaving tracks of blood in her wake.

Dr. Adams sighed, deciding it was going to be another slow night in the Sunnydale General ER. There had been a traffic accident, but there was little to do except set a few broken bones and fit a neck brace.

Just as he decided to call it a night early, a nurse rushed past him, screaming her lungs out very foolishly, and he winced. What in the hell...?

He whirled as the doors burst open, the hinges giving with an annoying shriek, and a roar filled the hospital corridors, making all those that heard it flinch, wondering what animal was dying such a horrible death.

He took one look at the game-faced vampire holding a young girl in his arms, both of them covered in blood, and turned towards the operating room, "In here! NOW!"

Joyce winced as a doctor set her broken arm, then flexed her stiff fingers as soon as the cast had dried enough. That gallery is cursed...if evil Zombie masks aren't coming into it, vampires are attacking it...

She looked up when she heard an odd, keeling sound, frowning as she went towards the door. She peeked out, her eyes widening as she was watched several security guards trying to subdue an obviously distressed Spike as he snarled and wailed, still in game face.

She thought it odd that the men didn't seem to care that Spike's face was abnormal, then figured they must run into vampires from time to time. You couldn't exactly work in a hospital and not notice odd things, like bodies drained completely of blood, per say...

"Spike!" Spike's head whipped around at his name, and she flinched, seeing his eyes were wild, and she went towards him, "No, ma'am...he's dangerous," one of the guards tried to put her off, but Spike broke through them,

"Theywon'tletmeseeherandshe'sbleedingthere'ssomuchbloodandItriedtostopherbutshejumpedandIcouldn'tstopherohbloodyhellmumI'msosorryIcouldn'tstopher..."

His words were blurred together, but Joyce got his basic meaning as she glared at the security guards, who were staring at them in amazement as she calmed the hysterical vampire down. One of them shook his head, "I'll never get this town," he muttered to one of his co-workers as they back warily away from them.

"Dru--Drusilla..." he almost stuttered, shaking his head, his eyes wide, shock! He's in shock! Joyce thought with some trepidation. She hadn't seen much, but she did dimly remembering seeing Spike rush out and then her calling the police...

"Where's Erin?" The panic was evident in her voice, he had something in his arms...

He swallowed heavily, leaning against the wall for support, then slid to the ground as his knees gave out.

His sudden, deep sobs was all the answer Joyce needed, and her eyes widened. Oh God!

Buffy and Willow pratically shrieked as Giles took a corner entirely too fast in his little Citreon, sliding across the back seat and slamming into the door.

"Seatbelts! Seatbelts!" Xander called back to them, his hands holding the dashboard in a white-knuckled death grip.

"I thought this thing couldn't do more then forty!" Buffy snapped at her Watcher, who only slammed on the gas even more, and she yelped as she flew back in the seat, smacking into Willow who had just righted herself.

Xander yelped as Giles breezed through a stop sign, and a car ran up onto the curb to avoid hitting him, 'That does it! From now on, G-man is not allowed to drive...anywhere!"

He slammed on the brakes as soon as they were outside the hospital and there were three identical cries of pain as heads smacked into the seats in front of them, or dashboard, respectivelly.

Giles was out in an instant as he left the three teenagers behind to rub their foreheads painfully, "Ow..."

He saw Spike pacing and growling softly, and let out an enraged howl that made the vampire's head jerk up in surprise only to be plowed over by the Watcher.

Spike tried to block the Watcher's punches with varying degrees of success, then gave up and started returning them.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Giles yelled, and Spike grunted as he caught a punch right in the nose, and threw Giles backward off of him.

Giles slammed into the waiting room chairs, sliding against the wall quite painfully just as Buffy and the others showed up.

Spike spun back to his feet in a fighting position as Giles rushed towards him again. "Rupert!" Joyce returned in time to leap between the two men as Buffy grabbed Giles' arm and together, they forcefully dragged them away from each other.

Giles glared at Spike through the cracked lens of his glasses while Spike spat blood on the floor, running his tongue over his split lip, his eyes narrowed to tiny slits, growling in a challenging manner.

"What in the hell is going on?" Joyce demanded angrily, glaring at the both of them, "Why are you causing a scene in the middle of the hospital?!"

"He did this to her!" Giles snapped, pointing at Spike accusingly, who blinked in surprise. "It's his bloody fault! If he had left her alone like he was supposed too, Drusilla would never have come back looking for revenge!"

"Are you bleeding daft? How in the hell can you blame this on me?!" Spike shouted at him, incredolous. "The chit isn't my Childe! And I'm not bloody responsible for her!"

"Then who is? Angel? I don't think so, Spike...she is your responsibility! And you should have known what she was doing! You should have made it your business to make sure she never left Brazil and never came back to Sunnydale!"

Spike looked away guiltly, knowing Giles had a point. Drusilla was his Dark Goddess...how did he think she would react when she found out he moved on...especially to a Slayer?

"You stay away from her from now on," Giles growled at him, "You keep your bloody distance, or so help me, God, I'll fucking crucify you myself."

"I can and I just did," Giles' voice lowered to a dangerous level, "And if I ever catch you near or my home anymore, you'll find out why they call me Ripper..."

Willow looked at Buffy worriedly as Spike snarled, getting in Giles' face, "Make me, Watcher...and you'll see what I can do."

"Spike," Buffy stepped behind her Watcher protectively, almost wincing as she placed herself where her loyalties most lay, knowing she was in danger of alienating Erin, "You heard Giles. Leave."

Spike glanced around as everyone, except Joyce, took their stands behind Giles, his jaw clenching in anger, "Fine," he spat out, "Fine...I'll go. But mark my words, Watcher...I'll never bloody go away. And I'll die before I let her go."

Spike growled again, and a stake slipped into Buffy's hand and she held it up warningly, and Spike glared at her, his eyes blazing in rage as he whirled, blood-stained duster swirling behind him. On his way out, he kicked the doors, and they bent with a high-pitched squeal of metal.

Giles slumped into a chair as soon as he was gone, burying his face in his hand. She's not going to like this one bit...not one little tiny bit...

Giles scrambled out of the hospital room, narrowly avoiding slamming into a nurse.

She looked at him in surprise, and he smiled sheepishly, "Um...she's a bit...tempremental..."

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