Sentiments (Darla & Spike, PG13)
Title: Sentiments
Author: Staringiscaring
Characters: Spike, Darla
Rating: PG13
Words: 688
Prompt In the Spike round, for aaronlisa , who wanted late 1970s, punk music, a chance encounter with Darla.
Notes: I apologize for the lateness.
Leaning against a tree across from Winterland, Spike lit a cigarette as he relished the afterglow of the concert and waited for Drusilla. His dark beauty had wandered off before the opening act had finished. He didn't mind. He watched the people mill outside of the concert hall.
Friends called out to each other as lovers kissed against the brick building. Traffic slowed to a standstill. The night still felt young.
Johnny Rotten had said that he felt cheated after he had finished the only encore but Spike had his fun and some hot blood spiced with adrenaline and speed. His nibble on a groupie with a green mohawk and black lipstick during the performance of “My Way” had only taken the edge off his hunger. Spike scanned the area for the next round. In the casual pose of a predator, only his eyes moved even after he saw the beautiful blonde in the tight black pantsuit with tiny straps that revealed her creamy decolletage and tapered leggings that ended with red heels.
Darla.
She stepped out a side door and kissed some human bloke on the cheek before turning away with a frown on her crimson lips. Darla saw him. Her eyes widened for a mere second then she strode towards him as if they had already made solid plans for a pint after the show instead being out of touch for years.
Chilly Pacific winds blew his dark trench coat back as he lifted his chin and raised his eyebrows at her. It had almost been a lifetime since they had hunted together. The grapevine last placed her in Japan where she drained and seduced business executives from a penthouse in Tokyo.
Kohl lined eyes scanned him as she approached. The lingering punks seemed to part before her despite her sharp and slick appearance. Darla's icy blue gaze still had its power. She looked like a dark disco queen, terrible and regal in nylon, far removed yet so close to the Victorian vixen of the past.
“Darla.” Spike covered his surprise before he nodded. “Never pictured you a Sex Pistol's fan.”
“Probably because I'm not.” She smirked. “You look good, Spike.” Darla reached out to stroke his leather jacket. “I had heard the rumors about New York. I trust that Drusilla is close by?”
“Hunting on the Haight, no doubt. Blends in there.”
They shared a smile before Darla pulled her hand back. Beyond her stone cold fox exterior, emphasis on stone cold, the warmth of the smile reached her eyes where a touch of respect already glimmered.
“What brings you here to Winterland if not for a bit of rock and roll?”
“Sentiment.The times suit you, Spike.” Darla raised an eyebrow as she took him in. “I haven't seen you in a dog's age. ”
“Not since before the depression. Didn't even think that you'd still be in California.”
“I wasn't for a good decade until my sire summoned me back.”
“Is the old bat still trapped in that cave?” Spike pursed his lips before he wore the insolent smirk that he had so often wore as a fledgling.
Darla rolled her eyes as a ghost of a grin lingered on her lips. “Unfortunately. You'd think he'd complain less about it given his rants about the world above.”
Spike held out his arm from long buried instinct. “Let's get a drink, love.”
“I know just the place.” She linked arms. “They have the best bloody Marys. Get the A positive, trust me.”
“So, what kind of sentiment brings you out amongst the plebes?”
“I often traveled from the Master's side to take in a show there. On opening night, I was in the front row for the Ice Follies. I was hoping that the owner would be interested in a revival.” Darla shrugged before she took his hand to lead him into an pub tucked into an alley. “I miss the old days.”
Looking at Darla made Spike think that maybe he missed them too.
Author: Staringiscaring
Characters: Spike, Darla
Rating: PG13
Words: 688
Prompt In the Spike round, for aaronlisa , who wanted late 1970s, punk music, a chance encounter with Darla.
Notes: I apologize for the lateness.
Leaning against a tree across from Winterland, Spike lit a cigarette as he relished the afterglow of the concert and waited for Drusilla. His dark beauty had wandered off before the opening act had finished. He didn't mind. He watched the people mill outside of the concert hall.
Friends called out to each other as lovers kissed against the brick building. Traffic slowed to a standstill. The night still felt young.
Johnny Rotten had said that he felt cheated after he had finished the only encore but Spike had his fun and some hot blood spiced with adrenaline and speed. His nibble on a groupie with a green mohawk and black lipstick during the performance of “My Way” had only taken the edge off his hunger. Spike scanned the area for the next round. In the casual pose of a predator, only his eyes moved even after he saw the beautiful blonde in the tight black pantsuit with tiny straps that revealed her creamy decolletage and tapered leggings that ended with red heels.
Darla.
She stepped out a side door and kissed some human bloke on the cheek before turning away with a frown on her crimson lips. Darla saw him. Her eyes widened for a mere second then she strode towards him as if they had already made solid plans for a pint after the show instead being out of touch for years.
Chilly Pacific winds blew his dark trench coat back as he lifted his chin and raised his eyebrows at her. It had almost been a lifetime since they had hunted together. The grapevine last placed her in Japan where she drained and seduced business executives from a penthouse in Tokyo.
Kohl lined eyes scanned him as she approached. The lingering punks seemed to part before her despite her sharp and slick appearance. Darla's icy blue gaze still had its power. She looked like a dark disco queen, terrible and regal in nylon, far removed yet so close to the Victorian vixen of the past.
“Darla.” Spike covered his surprise before he nodded. “Never pictured you a Sex Pistol's fan.”
“Probably because I'm not.” She smirked. “You look good, Spike.” Darla reached out to stroke his leather jacket. “I had heard the rumors about New York. I trust that Drusilla is close by?”
“Hunting on the Haight, no doubt. Blends in there.”
They shared a smile before Darla pulled her hand back. Beyond her stone cold fox exterior, emphasis on stone cold, the warmth of the smile reached her eyes where a touch of respect already glimmered.
“What brings you here to Winterland if not for a bit of rock and roll?”
“Sentiment.The times suit you, Spike.” Darla raised an eyebrow as she took him in. “I haven't seen you in a dog's age. ”
“Not since before the depression. Didn't even think that you'd still be in California.”
“I wasn't for a good decade until my sire summoned me back.”
“Is the old bat still trapped in that cave?” Spike pursed his lips before he wore the insolent smirk that he had so often wore as a fledgling.
Darla rolled her eyes as a ghost of a grin lingered on her lips. “Unfortunately. You'd think he'd complain less about it given his rants about the world above.”
Spike held out his arm from long buried instinct. “Let's get a drink, love.”
“I know just the place.” She linked arms. “They have the best bloody Marys. Get the A positive, trust me.”
“So, what kind of sentiment brings you out amongst the plebes?”
“I often traveled from the Master's side to take in a show there. On opening night, I was in the front row for the Ice Follies. I was hoping that the owner would be interested in a revival.” Darla shrugged before she took his hand to lead him into an pub tucked into an alley. “I miss the old days.”
Looking at Darla made Spike think that maybe he missed them too.