Fic: Foggy Swirls in a Coffee Shop (Lilah, Tara, Dracula)
Title: Foggy Swirls in a Coffee Shop
Author: lillianmorgan
Setting: mid-Buffy vs Dracula BtVS Season 5 (Tara and Willow at the Summers’ residence) and Judgement AtS Season 2 (well, sometime after Lilah’s very fleeting appearance)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don’t own Joss’ and ME’s toys. Nor do I own that old author’s toy.
A/N: Thanks so much to yourlibrarian for the read-through and brilliant suggestions.
Written for the good__evil Challenge #1. To include a ‘good’ BtVS character (Tara) and a ‘bad’ AtS character (Lilah), Dracula, mention of All Hallows’ Eve and a chess piece.
Originally posted 29th November 2005.
Foggy Swirls in a Coffee Shop
Lilah drummed her well-manicured fingernails across the table. This had to bite the big-one - stuck in some hick town keeping tabs on a girl Wolfram and Hart were only minimally interested in. Sure, she was the Slayer, but Lilah knew her potential (unlike that other pesky one) could only be redeemed in her relationship with the Caped Crusader. And he was the vamp they were all far more interested in keeping tabs on. Well, at least for the moment.
And, somehow, that goddamned piece of chicken shit, Lindsey MacDonald, knew that too and had engineered some extra special fieldwork for Lilah in this sleepy little burg. A few hours’ reconnaissance on the girl, then a written report due on Holland Manners’ desk by c.o.b. tomorrow. Just the complete lack of necessity in the scenario made her teeth grind.
Even the lowly mail delivery guy with the weird mask knew that there was something far more exciting going on back in the Wolfram and Hart offices and Lindsey was shutting her out of the Darla pie. She had her suspicions as to why, but like all good inspirations, she’d sit on it for a while. Let him think that he’d managed to get away with it. She was only slightly worried that Lindsey had enough clout to get her sent out of the picture, even if it was only for a day. Playing nursemaid to Darla must really be top-notch priority. After all, Holland knew of their battles and liked the play them up, to sit back and enjoy the sport. But Lindsey was so stupid. As if Lilah wouldn’t have another plan up her sleeve. And, as ever, he’d played right into her hands as this little jaunt gave her just the opportunity.
The waitress walked by her table and Lilah grabbed her elbow, taking the opportunity to order another cup of what passed for Italian coffee in this hokey little shop. She’d yet to fall asleep on the job once, and wasn’t about to let standards slip.
**
Tara’s eyes were still bulging after Mrs Summers had left the room. OK and maybe that was because she was pretty tired, having stayed up most of the night both studiously researching and “researching” with Willow. She knew some kinda quirky and creepy things went on in Sunnydale - even if she hadn’t been able to sense the mouth of hell, there were far too many pale people here by Californian standards - but Buffy running into the real Dracula, the vampire from the books, was just … amazing. It was as if all their confrontations with the supernatural were being affirmed; and not that Tara needed her life affirmed by some nineteenth century middle-class male author, but still. Dracula.
Last night, while Tara had watched Buffy’s animated tale-telling, she had begun, as well, to feel a bit of sympathy for Riley. He had clearly looked left out, but a little voice whispered inside her and informed her that she felt sorry for him because that was how she was feeling too. She could see him trying so very hard to look amused by Buffy’s garrulous story but he wore his emotions too well.
Mrs Summers walked back in and said, “Thanks girls. I really appreciate whatever it is that you’ve done here. I mean, we really are safe now, aren’t we?” It wasn’t hard to spot the querulous way her voice cracked at the end of the sentence.
Willow moved forward and tried her best to reassure. “Don’t worry Mrs Summers. Old Vlad won’t be able to get another look in. Besides, the daylight kinda hinders any movement on the Dracula side of things.”
“You’re quire sure?”
Willow was about to speak again when Tara felt she should intervene. Mrs Summers was clearly upset, and Tara felt sympathy for her, a mother lost, just like hers was. “How about Willow and I stay with you here, and keep you company while Buffy is at Xander’s. But first, why don’t I go and get some cake and coffee, or other refreshments that will help the whole wait and see situation?”
“Awww sweetie,” said Willow, nestling her arms protectively around Tara and stifling back a well-placed yawn. “You don’t have to.”
“No, I don’t,” agreed Tara. “But I w-w-want to. And I hope, I mean that’s ok with you Mrs Summers? Right?”
Mrs Summers looked at her and said, “You’re such a thoughtful girl, Tara. And I hate to admit it, but that does sound like a really lovely idea. I hope you girls don’t mind?”
“Nope, no minding. I’ll go call Xander and tell him the sitch,” informed Willow, heading for the telephone.
“It’s very kind of you, Tara,” said Mrs Summers, escorting her to the door. “Return safely,” she whispered, nudging fifteen dollars into her hand.
Tara blushed and hurried from the house.
**
Lilah sat in the café, idly pushing bits of cake around her plate. Maybe this wasn’t the most exciting of places to wait, (no demons for instance) but the information she’d been given pointed to this coffee house being the popular meeting point. Once she’d nabbed one of them, it was off to find the ‘Dark Master’. She chuckled at the name, but she was so bored she was seriously considering pulling out her cellphone and prank-calling Lindsey. Fate must have been on his side (for this time) because seconds barely passed when one of the Slayer’s hangers-on walked through the door. Well, sighed Lilah, better late than never.
The girl placed her order at the counter, polite niceties streaming from her mouth, and then turned to leave. Lilah timed her disruption perfectly, moving from her chair, cake in hand and managing to make it seem as if the girl had walked into her. Coffee, cake and other sundry items flew into the air, some landing on the girl, Lilah making sure to side step all of them.
The girl yelped in surprise, hopping about and fanning her top away from her body. “S-s-sorry,” stuttered the girl, even though the unfortunate incident was entirely Lilah’s fault.
“Likewise,” Lilah muttered, before she noticed that the girl’s black mesh blouse had half of Lilah’s cappuccino over it. “Oh shit. Does that hurt?”
The girl looked down and then appeared startled to see the stain. “Yes, I think I’m burnt. I mean, it really hurts. And oh… and it was my favourite.”
A tiny bit of Lilah’s heart went out to the girl as she stood there alternating her gaze between Lilah and the milky stain, pulling the shirt away from her body. Lilah huffed and common sense did not win out.
“God! What an idiot I am. I’m so so sorry. Come on,” she encouraged, clutching onto the girl’s arm. “There’s a restroom out back.”
Once inside, Lilah ran the cold water over the dishcloth, that the staff had provided, and handed it to the girl. “Should I buy you a new one?”
“What?” said the girl, shocked again as if by the sound of Lilah’s voice. Then continuing to dab generous amounts of water over her shirt, she said tightly, “I didn’t get it in Sunnydale.”
“The money then?” Lilah offered.
The girl’s mouth turned down. “It was kinda ... irreplaceable?”
Lilah knew she was coming close to blushing, the girl’s quiet, polite rage being far too sincere to be a hoax for more money, but still she said, “Well, not much I can do then is there?”
The girl opened her mouth to argue but instead let out a loud, drilling scream.
**
She hadn’t meant to scream, really she hadn’t. But the problem was she’d been looking in the mirror to gauge the stain removal and when she turned back to tell the annoying woman just what exactly she thought of her, she’d seen him.
She’d known instantly that it was Dracula, although probably her mind’s feverish workings ever since Buffy’s story had helped with the recognition. He gave the impression of being forever in motion, swirling in between reality and dream. He was tall, with flowing black clothes and long dark hair, and was looking at them like they were two ripe apples.
The woman turned around and began laughing. “Oh please!” she exclaimed. “I knew this town was Demon-Hicksville, U.S.A. but do you guys really have to frolic about in Halloween costumes all year round?”
Tara gasped at her audacity and the woman contemplated her. “What?”
“Tha-tha-tha-tha…” Her nerves were really getting the better of her.
“Allow me, little one. I am Vlad, Prince of Wallachia, also known as Vlad Tepes, Vlad the Impaler.” He paused as if summoning up the correct amount of histrionics for his final word and rolling it around his mouth before caressing it out between his lips, “… Dracula.”
The woman’s laughter turned to high-pitched giggling and Dracula pulled himself up to his full, imposing height.
“You choose to mock me with your attempt at All Hallows’ Eve humour? I had thought that you might make intriguing paramours and grant you the gift of eternal life. But, perhaps, instead I will just kill you.” And he moved swiftly forward swooping in on the woman, grabbing her neck between two boney white fingers. He lifted her off the ground and she began fighting his embrace, kicking at his knees. “Be at peace, little one,” he continued, passing his other hand across Tara’s face putting her body into paralysis. The shock took a while to register, and then she noticed that she could move her arms and legs, only it took so long for the thought to run from her brain to her leg that it really didn’t seem worth the effort. And, she was feeling quite sleepy.
“Let go!” the woman screamed, which came out as a pathetic screech because of the pressure to her windpipe. “Or you’ll have the entire legal force of Wolfram and Hart on your back.”
Dracula sniffed. “A fair warning. But I have not lived this long without developing the necessary wiles to forestall such a threat. If I were not to kill you, tell me, what might the Wolf, Ram and Hart have to offer instead?”
“The girl,” the woman said, indicating toward Tara. “She looks like she’d have pretty scrumptious blood, doesn’t she? Mmmm mmmmm.”
Dracula looked Tara up and down, savouring every ounce of her body. Tara felt the weight of his stare consume her in a spreading, blushing heat. Ok and now she was finally getting the tall, dark and penetrating good looks message.
“She is a cohort of the Slayer’s. It may not be practicable. And it is not yet time. Besides,” Dracula mused, turning the woman toward him, “I have other ways and means to her.”
He looked at the older woman for elongated minutes, drawn out through time like taffy on a stick, before suddenly letting her go. She hunched over on her knees, spluttering continuously.
“But,” he pronounced, “it would be advisable to keep all possibilities open and within easy reach.”
Lightning fast, he seized the two of them by their wrists in an unshakeable hold and pulled them down the hall. As they were moving, (well, Dracula and the other woman were moving, Tara was more drag-shuffling) Tara summoned all her powers of concentration and fumbled desperately at her charm bracelet with her free hand.
Dracula swung open the door to a storeroom and Tara attempted to lunge at him with her bracelet. The plan had been to brand him with her charm of the Celtic cross, but she ended up dispiritingly flinging the one of the dark queen at him instead.
“Little one,” Dracula chided, before slamming the door in her face.
Tara slumped against the wall in the dimly lit room, the stasis relieved from her body, just as the sound of his feet diminished, with Dracula’s every retreating step. This really had to bite the big one. So much for trying to help out. She shook her head but reassured herself with the thought that it could be worse. She shuddered to think what might happen to the other woman. Although she had sorta got Tara into this whole mess in the first place, she couldn’t help to feel a bit of sympathy, possibly aided by the fact that Tara had noticed that she had really, really great legs. She sighed, and maybe she could let her thoughts wander a bit. Not too far from Willow, but maybe just a bit.
Perhaps this was a side effect of Dracula’s spell, but she really didn’t feel like moving. She stroked her charm bracelet, feeling for the links, wondering what it was she should remember. Her fingers fell repeatedly over the black queen, and this made her think of ... Willow! Would Willow come to her help? Would she even notice that she was gone? Maybe, in time. But first, perhaps, she’d just close her eyes, for a brief moment, just to let the stasis wear off and then…
**
“I have a car waiting for us, and don’t you worry it comes complete with necrotempered glass to trounce that darned sunlight issue for you.” They stood together in the plentiful afternoon shade that the back of the coffee house provided them. Once the Wolfram and Hart trump card had been revealed, Lilah had noticed that Dracula was a lot more amenable to her situation.
He blinked at her slowly as if running through his mind what she had just said and she stifled another giggle. It really was hard to take him seriously when he played so hard at being Dracula.
Lilah spoke slowly and clearly this time. “There’s a car outside waiting for us. I can drive you home, and you don’t have to worry about the sun. I think I have something that might interest you?”
“Your choice of welcoming gift left something to be desired. And while you have some panache, your delivery was a little underwhelming. As I remarked earlier, I have my own effective ways and means to the Slayer.” He peered at her down his nose, running his eyes over her body before flicking them away like a dismissal.
“Slayer Schmayer, Wolfram and Hart have bigger plans for you.” And Lilah flipped out her cellphone. “Petersen, we’re ready.”
The SUV with darkened windows pulled up right beside them, and she made sure that no sunlight caught any of Dracula’s person as they alighted. He looked around the car, passing his hands over the seat, as Petersen pulled out of the driveway. “This is ... notable.”
“Yeah, we’ve had some dealings with vampires to get in practice. And I’m really glad you like it but hey, let’s move on to the main game. Liked your little demo back there, very inspiring. See you’ve got it working really well on humans.”
“I too have had practice.” His voice was distant as he looked out at the passing surroundings, raising his hand in and around the softened sunlight.
“That’s just great, champ! But how would you feel about a little downtime in L.A. after your rendezvous with the Slayer? I’ve a little problem I’d like you to deal with. And, what’s better, I believe you know her. Even, maybe, a score to settle?”
“It is true that I know of most people.”
“Yeah but you know her, as in Darla, sired by that other Master. And what I’d like you to do is work your mojo on her.”
Dracula turned to face her. “I was informed that she is dead.”
Lilah’s face broke out into a broad grin. “Not any more, raised by the significant power of Wolfram and Hart from the dead. She’s alive and breathing and walking around our offices. So how do you feel about a little reunion with her for old time’s sake?”
“I never did care much for that side of the family.”
“But I bet you care for other things - like shiny new cars with special windows that don’t let in the sunlight, right? We’ve a whole team of experts working on how to make a vamp’s life easier in the twenty-first century. Bet you’re keen to know some of that?”
Dracula turned to look out the window once more. He upturned his face and let the sun gently caress his features. “I am known for my love of the old ways, but a vampire must continue to exist. After so long, I thought I would not remember what it feels like. But this pleases me, and so.” He paused, Lilah assumed, knowing full well the experience of negotiation. “I agree to your plan to meet with Darla.”
“I knew it! I knew you liked your luxuries, you old devil -”
“But first, to which you already alluded, I must experience the Slayer. In person. We have a date with destiny and I wish to fulfil that.”
“Whatever you say. Petersen!” She clicked her fingers together and he reached inside the glove compartment for her business cards, which he then passed back to her. She took the first one from the top and passed it to Dracula. “You meet and greet the Slayer and then we’ll be in touch.” And Lindsey’s plans for Darla will be down the drain, and Lilah will make a beeline for executive control.
She smiled then, and looked out at the streets as they drove through them. Well, the sleepy little burg had something going for it after all.
**
“Sweetie?” Willow’s voice was distant and subdued, as if she were caught in a storm.
Tara peeled an eye open and saw Willow standing above her, with two of the Espresso Pump’s staff standing behind.
“Oh,” was all Tara could manage.
Willow nodded her head. “Thanks so much, you guys. We’re gonna have to get some kind of restraining order on this guy. He can’t just go around locking people up in cupboards. Really!”
Willow carefully clasped Tara’s elbow to her. “You came for me?” Tara whispered.
“Of course, I always will baby. To the ends of the earth.”
As they walked out of the storage room, Willow and Tara again thanking the staff, Tara managed a further whispered question. “How did you know? Was it ... l-l-like our bond?”
Willow stiffened slightly and then continued, “Strangest thing. We got a call from an anonymous woman, telling us that you’d been locked up. Dunno how she got the phone number or how she even knew, but I thought I’d better check just to be safe. Would be so awful if you were locked away all through the night.”
Tara felt relieved at her mystery benefactress, perhaps somehow she had managed to escape too. Maybe her dark queen had saved the day. And then a slight chill ran through her body. A good turn did deserve another, even if she had a tiny inclination that she was being manipulated. She leaned into Willow’s embrace, and let her shuffle them outside.
Finis
Many thanks to selene_2 for the banner.
Author: lillianmorgan
Setting: mid-Buffy vs Dracula BtVS Season 5 (Tara and Willow at the Summers’ residence) and Judgement AtS Season 2 (well, sometime after Lilah’s very fleeting appearance)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don’t own Joss’ and ME’s toys. Nor do I own that old author’s toy.
A/N: Thanks so much to yourlibrarian for the read-through and brilliant suggestions.
Written for the good__evil Challenge #1. To include a ‘good’ BtVS character (Tara) and a ‘bad’ AtS character (Lilah), Dracula, mention of All Hallows’ Eve and a chess piece.
Originally posted 29th November 2005.
Foggy Swirls in a Coffee Shop
Lilah drummed her well-manicured fingernails across the table. This had to bite the big-one - stuck in some hick town keeping tabs on a girl Wolfram and Hart were only minimally interested in. Sure, she was the Slayer, but Lilah knew her potential (unlike that other pesky one) could only be redeemed in her relationship with the Caped Crusader. And he was the vamp they were all far more interested in keeping tabs on. Well, at least for the moment.
And, somehow, that goddamned piece of chicken shit, Lindsey MacDonald, knew that too and had engineered some extra special fieldwork for Lilah in this sleepy little burg. A few hours’ reconnaissance on the girl, then a written report due on Holland Manners’ desk by c.o.b. tomorrow. Just the complete lack of necessity in the scenario made her teeth grind.
Even the lowly mail delivery guy with the weird mask knew that there was something far more exciting going on back in the Wolfram and Hart offices and Lindsey was shutting her out of the Darla pie. She had her suspicions as to why, but like all good inspirations, she’d sit on it for a while. Let him think that he’d managed to get away with it. She was only slightly worried that Lindsey had enough clout to get her sent out of the picture, even if it was only for a day. Playing nursemaid to Darla must really be top-notch priority. After all, Holland knew of their battles and liked the play them up, to sit back and enjoy the sport. But Lindsey was so stupid. As if Lilah wouldn’t have another plan up her sleeve. And, as ever, he’d played right into her hands as this little jaunt gave her just the opportunity.
The waitress walked by her table and Lilah grabbed her elbow, taking the opportunity to order another cup of what passed for Italian coffee in this hokey little shop. She’d yet to fall asleep on the job once, and wasn’t about to let standards slip.
**
Tara’s eyes were still bulging after Mrs Summers had left the room. OK and maybe that was because she was pretty tired, having stayed up most of the night both studiously researching and “researching” with Willow. She knew some kinda quirky and creepy things went on in Sunnydale - even if she hadn’t been able to sense the mouth of hell, there were far too many pale people here by Californian standards - but Buffy running into the real Dracula, the vampire from the books, was just … amazing. It was as if all their confrontations with the supernatural were being affirmed; and not that Tara needed her life affirmed by some nineteenth century middle-class male author, but still. Dracula.
Last night, while Tara had watched Buffy’s animated tale-telling, she had begun, as well, to feel a bit of sympathy for Riley. He had clearly looked left out, but a little voice whispered inside her and informed her that she felt sorry for him because that was how she was feeling too. She could see him trying so very hard to look amused by Buffy’s garrulous story but he wore his emotions too well.
Mrs Summers walked back in and said, “Thanks girls. I really appreciate whatever it is that you’ve done here. I mean, we really are safe now, aren’t we?” It wasn’t hard to spot the querulous way her voice cracked at the end of the sentence.
Willow moved forward and tried her best to reassure. “Don’t worry Mrs Summers. Old Vlad won’t be able to get another look in. Besides, the daylight kinda hinders any movement on the Dracula side of things.”
“You’re quire sure?”
Willow was about to speak again when Tara felt she should intervene. Mrs Summers was clearly upset, and Tara felt sympathy for her, a mother lost, just like hers was. “How about Willow and I stay with you here, and keep you company while Buffy is at Xander’s. But first, why don’t I go and get some cake and coffee, or other refreshments that will help the whole wait and see situation?”
“Awww sweetie,” said Willow, nestling her arms protectively around Tara and stifling back a well-placed yawn. “You don’t have to.”
“No, I don’t,” agreed Tara. “But I w-w-want to. And I hope, I mean that’s ok with you Mrs Summers? Right?”
Mrs Summers looked at her and said, “You’re such a thoughtful girl, Tara. And I hate to admit it, but that does sound like a really lovely idea. I hope you girls don’t mind?”
“Nope, no minding. I’ll go call Xander and tell him the sitch,” informed Willow, heading for the telephone.
“It’s very kind of you, Tara,” said Mrs Summers, escorting her to the door. “Return safely,” she whispered, nudging fifteen dollars into her hand.
Tara blushed and hurried from the house.
**
Lilah sat in the café, idly pushing bits of cake around her plate. Maybe this wasn’t the most exciting of places to wait, (no demons for instance) but the information she’d been given pointed to this coffee house being the popular meeting point. Once she’d nabbed one of them, it was off to find the ‘Dark Master’. She chuckled at the name, but she was so bored she was seriously considering pulling out her cellphone and prank-calling Lindsey. Fate must have been on his side (for this time) because seconds barely passed when one of the Slayer’s hangers-on walked through the door. Well, sighed Lilah, better late than never.
The girl placed her order at the counter, polite niceties streaming from her mouth, and then turned to leave. Lilah timed her disruption perfectly, moving from her chair, cake in hand and managing to make it seem as if the girl had walked into her. Coffee, cake and other sundry items flew into the air, some landing on the girl, Lilah making sure to side step all of them.
The girl yelped in surprise, hopping about and fanning her top away from her body. “S-s-sorry,” stuttered the girl, even though the unfortunate incident was entirely Lilah’s fault.
“Likewise,” Lilah muttered, before she noticed that the girl’s black mesh blouse had half of Lilah’s cappuccino over it. “Oh shit. Does that hurt?”
The girl looked down and then appeared startled to see the stain. “Yes, I think I’m burnt. I mean, it really hurts. And oh… and it was my favourite.”
A tiny bit of Lilah’s heart went out to the girl as she stood there alternating her gaze between Lilah and the milky stain, pulling the shirt away from her body. Lilah huffed and common sense did not win out.
“God! What an idiot I am. I’m so so sorry. Come on,” she encouraged, clutching onto the girl’s arm. “There’s a restroom out back.”
Once inside, Lilah ran the cold water over the dishcloth, that the staff had provided, and handed it to the girl. “Should I buy you a new one?”
“What?” said the girl, shocked again as if by the sound of Lilah’s voice. Then continuing to dab generous amounts of water over her shirt, she said tightly, “I didn’t get it in Sunnydale.”
“The money then?” Lilah offered.
The girl’s mouth turned down. “It was kinda ... irreplaceable?”
Lilah knew she was coming close to blushing, the girl’s quiet, polite rage being far too sincere to be a hoax for more money, but still she said, “Well, not much I can do then is there?”
The girl opened her mouth to argue but instead let out a loud, drilling scream.
**
She hadn’t meant to scream, really she hadn’t. But the problem was she’d been looking in the mirror to gauge the stain removal and when she turned back to tell the annoying woman just what exactly she thought of her, she’d seen him.
She’d known instantly that it was Dracula, although probably her mind’s feverish workings ever since Buffy’s story had helped with the recognition. He gave the impression of being forever in motion, swirling in between reality and dream. He was tall, with flowing black clothes and long dark hair, and was looking at them like they were two ripe apples.
The woman turned around and began laughing. “Oh please!” she exclaimed. “I knew this town was Demon-Hicksville, U.S.A. but do you guys really have to frolic about in Halloween costumes all year round?”
Tara gasped at her audacity and the woman contemplated her. “What?”
“Tha-tha-tha-tha…” Her nerves were really getting the better of her.
“Allow me, little one. I am Vlad, Prince of Wallachia, also known as Vlad Tepes, Vlad the Impaler.” He paused as if summoning up the correct amount of histrionics for his final word and rolling it around his mouth before caressing it out between his lips, “… Dracula.”
The woman’s laughter turned to high-pitched giggling and Dracula pulled himself up to his full, imposing height.
“You choose to mock me with your attempt at All Hallows’ Eve humour? I had thought that you might make intriguing paramours and grant you the gift of eternal life. But, perhaps, instead I will just kill you.” And he moved swiftly forward swooping in on the woman, grabbing her neck between two boney white fingers. He lifted her off the ground and she began fighting his embrace, kicking at his knees. “Be at peace, little one,” he continued, passing his other hand across Tara’s face putting her body into paralysis. The shock took a while to register, and then she noticed that she could move her arms and legs, only it took so long for the thought to run from her brain to her leg that it really didn’t seem worth the effort. And, she was feeling quite sleepy.
“Let go!” the woman screamed, which came out as a pathetic screech because of the pressure to her windpipe. “Or you’ll have the entire legal force of Wolfram and Hart on your back.”
Dracula sniffed. “A fair warning. But I have not lived this long without developing the necessary wiles to forestall such a threat. If I were not to kill you, tell me, what might the Wolf, Ram and Hart have to offer instead?”
“The girl,” the woman said, indicating toward Tara. “She looks like she’d have pretty scrumptious blood, doesn’t she? Mmmm mmmmm.”
Dracula looked Tara up and down, savouring every ounce of her body. Tara felt the weight of his stare consume her in a spreading, blushing heat. Ok and now she was finally getting the tall, dark and penetrating good looks message.
“She is a cohort of the Slayer’s. It may not be practicable. And it is not yet time. Besides,” Dracula mused, turning the woman toward him, “I have other ways and means to her.”
He looked at the older woman for elongated minutes, drawn out through time like taffy on a stick, before suddenly letting her go. She hunched over on her knees, spluttering continuously.
“But,” he pronounced, “it would be advisable to keep all possibilities open and within easy reach.”
Lightning fast, he seized the two of them by their wrists in an unshakeable hold and pulled them down the hall. As they were moving, (well, Dracula and the other woman were moving, Tara was more drag-shuffling) Tara summoned all her powers of concentration and fumbled desperately at her charm bracelet with her free hand.
Dracula swung open the door to a storeroom and Tara attempted to lunge at him with her bracelet. The plan had been to brand him with her charm of the Celtic cross, but she ended up dispiritingly flinging the one of the dark queen at him instead.
“Little one,” Dracula chided, before slamming the door in her face.
Tara slumped against the wall in the dimly lit room, the stasis relieved from her body, just as the sound of his feet diminished, with Dracula’s every retreating step. This really had to bite the big one. So much for trying to help out. She shook her head but reassured herself with the thought that it could be worse. She shuddered to think what might happen to the other woman. Although she had sorta got Tara into this whole mess in the first place, she couldn’t help to feel a bit of sympathy, possibly aided by the fact that Tara had noticed that she had really, really great legs. She sighed, and maybe she could let her thoughts wander a bit. Not too far from Willow, but maybe just a bit.
Perhaps this was a side effect of Dracula’s spell, but she really didn’t feel like moving. She stroked her charm bracelet, feeling for the links, wondering what it was she should remember. Her fingers fell repeatedly over the black queen, and this made her think of ... Willow! Would Willow come to her help? Would she even notice that she was gone? Maybe, in time. But first, perhaps, she’d just close her eyes, for a brief moment, just to let the stasis wear off and then…
**
“I have a car waiting for us, and don’t you worry it comes complete with necrotempered glass to trounce that darned sunlight issue for you.” They stood together in the plentiful afternoon shade that the back of the coffee house provided them. Once the Wolfram and Hart trump card had been revealed, Lilah had noticed that Dracula was a lot more amenable to her situation.
He blinked at her slowly as if running through his mind what she had just said and she stifled another giggle. It really was hard to take him seriously when he played so hard at being Dracula.
Lilah spoke slowly and clearly this time. “There’s a car outside waiting for us. I can drive you home, and you don’t have to worry about the sun. I think I have something that might interest you?”
“Your choice of welcoming gift left something to be desired. And while you have some panache, your delivery was a little underwhelming. As I remarked earlier, I have my own effective ways and means to the Slayer.” He peered at her down his nose, running his eyes over her body before flicking them away like a dismissal.
“Slayer Schmayer, Wolfram and Hart have bigger plans for you.” And Lilah flipped out her cellphone. “Petersen, we’re ready.”
The SUV with darkened windows pulled up right beside them, and she made sure that no sunlight caught any of Dracula’s person as they alighted. He looked around the car, passing his hands over the seat, as Petersen pulled out of the driveway. “This is ... notable.”
“Yeah, we’ve had some dealings with vampires to get in practice. And I’m really glad you like it but hey, let’s move on to the main game. Liked your little demo back there, very inspiring. See you’ve got it working really well on humans.”
“I too have had practice.” His voice was distant as he looked out at the passing surroundings, raising his hand in and around the softened sunlight.
“That’s just great, champ! But how would you feel about a little downtime in L.A. after your rendezvous with the Slayer? I’ve a little problem I’d like you to deal with. And, what’s better, I believe you know her. Even, maybe, a score to settle?”
“It is true that I know of most people.”
“Yeah but you know her, as in Darla, sired by that other Master. And what I’d like you to do is work your mojo on her.”
Dracula turned to face her. “I was informed that she is dead.”
Lilah’s face broke out into a broad grin. “Not any more, raised by the significant power of Wolfram and Hart from the dead. She’s alive and breathing and walking around our offices. So how do you feel about a little reunion with her for old time’s sake?”
“I never did care much for that side of the family.”
“But I bet you care for other things - like shiny new cars with special windows that don’t let in the sunlight, right? We’ve a whole team of experts working on how to make a vamp’s life easier in the twenty-first century. Bet you’re keen to know some of that?”
Dracula turned to look out the window once more. He upturned his face and let the sun gently caress his features. “I am known for my love of the old ways, but a vampire must continue to exist. After so long, I thought I would not remember what it feels like. But this pleases me, and so.” He paused, Lilah assumed, knowing full well the experience of negotiation. “I agree to your plan to meet with Darla.”
“I knew it! I knew you liked your luxuries, you old devil -”
“But first, to which you already alluded, I must experience the Slayer. In person. We have a date with destiny and I wish to fulfil that.”
“Whatever you say. Petersen!” She clicked her fingers together and he reached inside the glove compartment for her business cards, which he then passed back to her. She took the first one from the top and passed it to Dracula. “You meet and greet the Slayer and then we’ll be in touch.” And Lindsey’s plans for Darla will be down the drain, and Lilah will make a beeline for executive control.
She smiled then, and looked out at the streets as they drove through them. Well, the sleepy little burg had something going for it after all.
**
“Sweetie?” Willow’s voice was distant and subdued, as if she were caught in a storm.
Tara peeled an eye open and saw Willow standing above her, with two of the Espresso Pump’s staff standing behind.
“Oh,” was all Tara could manage.
Willow nodded her head. “Thanks so much, you guys. We’re gonna have to get some kind of restraining order on this guy. He can’t just go around locking people up in cupboards. Really!”
Willow carefully clasped Tara’s elbow to her. “You came for me?” Tara whispered.
“Of course, I always will baby. To the ends of the earth.”
As they walked out of the storage room, Willow and Tara again thanking the staff, Tara managed a further whispered question. “How did you know? Was it ... l-l-like our bond?”
Willow stiffened slightly and then continued, “Strangest thing. We got a call from an anonymous woman, telling us that you’d been locked up. Dunno how she got the phone number or how she even knew, but I thought I’d better check just to be safe. Would be so awful if you were locked away all through the night.”
Tara felt relieved at her mystery benefactress, perhaps somehow she had managed to escape too. Maybe her dark queen had saved the day. And then a slight chill ran through her body. A good turn did deserve another, even if she had a tiny inclination that she was being manipulated. She leaned into Willow’s embrace, and let her shuffle them outside.
Finis
Many thanks to selene_2 for the banner.