Fic: Ash's Ashes (Murder In Suburbia/Buffy/Blade: the series)
Ash's Ashes
by Erin Griffin
Fandom: Murder In Suburbia/Buffy/Blade:The Series mention
Pairing: Ash/Scribbs, Spike/Drucilla mention
Rating: R for language, violence, character death
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy, ITV, Marvel/Touchstone owns them.
Spoilers: None, really. You just need to konw the characters a little bit.
Note: Written in about an hour and a half early in the morning with no beta. Partially inspired by the Ghost Rider movie, and a phrase said in tonight's (9/20/09) episode of Drop Dead Diva, I thought I would try something a little different for these two.
Scribbs stuck her hands in her pockets after she'd blown on them and rubbed them together furiously. She wished she had remembered her gloves, and she thought about them, their warmth inviting at home on her dining room table. She bounced on the balls of her feet trying to keep warm as snow fell around her. It was dark out, with the grey-ish kind of purple the snowy night gave her. The blonde stood and waited, her heart thumping, her hands freezing, and her mind racing. She looked as far as the snow would allow in both directions, her eyes quinting through the whiteness. Never before had she cursed the purity, but she did this time, as she couldn't see who she was looking for. "Damn it," Scribbs muttered when the wind picked up and a shiver went through her. Her fingers were growing numb, but she still stood there waiting. She knew she would wait until daylight, when she knew better.
"You shouldn't be here."
Scribbs jumped at the voice, so similar, so authorative. So Ash. Scribbs felt the effects of this voice as she slowly looked around for the source, only seeing shadows. Only she could hide so well in all of the white, her pale skin possibly serving perfectly as camaflauge. "You say that everytime," Scribbs responded, as she always did. That did the trick; she heard a whoosh that wasn't in sync with the winds around her, and the one woman she was looking for stood before her. She wore a long black coat, buttoned all the way up, and a blue scarf was around her neck. Ash's hair was done up in a way Scribbs never had seen it before, held together with two long pins. She looked so much younger, but she already knew that ever since...
"And I mean it everytime," Ash shot back. She tried to sound threatening, but Scribbs knew otherwise, which angered the brunette each time. "You cannot be here, Scribbs. It is too dangerous."
"I had to see you. You know that," Scribbs told her. There was a waver in her voice, letting Ash know that tears would soon follow.
"Don't, please." Ash's own voice broke, and she instinctively stepped forward. She closed her eyes when she got a certain distance from the blonde, knowing that she would still see the changes in her face. "You know I can't stand to see you hurt, that is why you must go. This visit won't do anything else. For the both of us." Ash felt a hand on her cheek that was colder than her own face, which was almost impossible. She looked at the bare hand of Emma Scribbins, and took it in hers. She could feel the temperature difference, and this worried her. Scribbs was never supposed to be warmer than her.
"I needed to see you," Scribbs said again, forcing Ash's face to look at her with the other frozen set of fingers. There, she looked into Ash's eyes, but they were unfamiliar in many ways. They were yellow now, as they had been since that night, and her face was shaped into that of someone Scribbs knew wasn't her partner. And when Ash spoke next, Scribbs knew that she would see the elongated canine teeth. And through these changes, there was still something there, something that will always tell the blonde that she was beautiful. "I love you, Ash. I always will, and I know that you love me too. You loved me so much, you gave up your soul." Ash swallowed, her head looking down at the snow on her heavy shoes. The memory of that night ran between them as the wind blew in place of their conversation.
(OMGFLASHBACK)
It had been a cold night like the one they stood in, both of them bundled and on their way back to their motel room after a confrence held in London. Ash and Scribbs had gone out for dinner, and then walked around the area for a little while. Though their romantic relationship was new, it had been developing through their friendship and partnership for a long time before that. As they took their time hand in hand back to the motel, Ash kept feeling as though the pair were being followed, and a moment or two later, her suspitions were correct, as they had been confronted by a fairly odd couple. They were otherwise the only ones on the cold dark pavement. The man, straight out of a Billie Idol music video, stood against his frail girlfriend, who stared at them with a small glitter in her otherwise vacant eyes. "Look, Doll. Supper."
"No, they're such a cute couple."
"A dinner show, then?" the peroxided blonde man asked, and the young woman looked as if he had been reading her mind. Already, Scribbs had her hand in her pocket, readying it around her retractable baton. Ash stood tall, moving Scribbs slightly behind her.
"I advise you to let us pass. We'll have nothing to do with your entertainment," Ash told them, and they only laughed.
"You hear that, Pet?" The blonde man was all smiles and he moved, so quickly that Ash barely blinked before the link between the women was severed by a rough arm around her shoulders. She hit him a couple of times with her elbow to the stomach, the first one having no affect on her attacker, but the second one causing him to back up a little bit only because of the force of the blow, not the attack itself. The hold on her got tighter, and Ash could see the young woman held Scribbs in a hold that seem to defy her fragile body.
"Ash!"
"I can smell the love all over you. Such a sweet smell." The woman said softly, almost in a song. Ash's eyes widened as the young woman's mouth opened wide, revealing long canines that she intended to harm Scribbs with.
"NO! Scribbs!" Ash struggled in earnest now, kicking at the blonde man. She got him in the legs a few times, and he eventually let go only slightly, which allowed her to fight out of his grip. The man seemed momentarily confused. Ash turned towards her partner and girlfriend, ducking under the man's swipe. She ran towards the woman holding her partner, knocking the three to the ground. "Run, Scribbs!"
"No!"
"RUN SCRIBBS!!" Ash shouted. Instead of listening, Scribbs extracted her baton, showing it to them plainly at her side, ready to fight. Ash was slow to get up from the tumble, and Scribbs didn't like that. There was a laugh.
"Oh, I like you two," he said appretiatively, hitting Scribbs' arm, which forced her to drop her baton. His sharp fangs and contorted face showed now. He growled as he advanced, and wrapped a hand around Scribbs' throat and held her up off of the ground. He loved the fear he saw there in the blonde's eyes.
"Make her pretty greens pop out like that toy I like," the woman said happily while kicking the brunette detective. Suddenly, she was holding Ash down with a boot to the neck, and she spoke to the blonde man as if a child speaking to an older brother.
"Anything for you, Gorgeous," the man replied, obeying the woman and hearing the gasps of air that wouldn't come to Scribbs' lungs. "What was that? I can't quite hear you." He laughed, looking at the two of them.
Ash reached around for something, anything to fight with. Unlike Scribbs, she didn't bring her baton with her everywhere. She regretted that now. Something hit her fingers, and it felt slightly sharp. A large peice of glass cut into her own hand as she wrapped her fingers around it, and she jabbed it into the leg on her throat. The woman looked down at her. "My stockings!" the woman said in distress. "Edith won't like this at all." Whatever the woman was murmuring about, it made her move away from Ash, preoccupied with her dress now. Ash tried to go after the woman again with the glass, holding the young woman to her, who didn't even seem to see what was going on anymore.
"No!" she heard the man call. "Don't hurt her!"
"Let her go. Please." When there was no movement, Ash pressed the glass to the pale skin, lightly. The man litterally threw Scribbs away from him. She hit a wall of a building and was knocked out instantly. "Scribbs," Ash said helplessly. She shoved the frail woman at the bleached man, who caught her. She ran to Scribbs and helped her up, doing her best to drag her. She felt herself being yanked violently from her spot besides Scribbs, and the blonde detective fell back to the ground.
"I won't hurt your little girlfriend, but trust me, you both will suffer!" the man said in a snarl. He opened his mouth wide and Ash felt his teeth sink painfully into her and the life slowly leave her veins as they flowed into this man- this monster's mouth, a few drops dripping onto the both of them in his blood lust.
A while later, Scribbs woke up with a throbbing head. She looked around to find that their attackers were gone. She called out hoarsely for her partner and didn't receive a responce. She stumbed on her hands and knees, and then she saw a sight that made her sob. She hurried over to the fallen body of Kate Ashurst. Scribbs' shaking hand touched the cold skin of her lover, and she looked over at the two holes in her neck. She knew. She knew that Ash was dead.
(OMGENDFLASHBACK)
When Scribbs' mind allowed her to fall out of the memories of that night, memories of Ash's dead body, and a night later when someone claimed that Ash's grave had been robbed completely, body and all, she found herself in Ash's arms. They both didn't seem to have felt it in that time, but there was always that pull between them, even if whatever occupied Ash's body wasn't truly her partner. The arms around her felt the same, though there was no breathing in her ear, no heartbeat under her cheek. Ash seemed to suddenly remember these things as well, and she backed away. "You must go now."
"We just got here," Scribbs protested, putting her hands back into her pockets and sheilding herself from the wind.
"It is dangerous for us to be around eachother. There are so many of us now, so many Houses, clans, and families in the hidden world that have eyes on all of us... vegetarian, barbarian- whatever- vampires. If I am too close to who I was as a human... My sire may have his soul back, but the rest of them don't, and they won't hesitate to make sure I know where my loyalties are supposed to lie."
"Ash..."
The brunette placed her hands carefully on Scribbs's shoulders to force her to look at her and to pay close attnetion. "Please... I'm not who I once was. That is so obvious, but I can't seem to make you see. This body, these memories, they are all about you, but you see, the one who truly loves you, the one who deserves your love in return- She's dead." The shoulders under her hands shook, and Scribbs began to sob. The vampire's throat closed as its host body yearned to hold this woman again, to make love to her. The longer they stood there, though, its other instinct was to rip through her beautiful neck and take all it had to offer. Maybe there could be a compromise; she could turn her- No! Her host body wouldn't allow that. This was why she had to warn her. "Let me go, Emma Scribbins. She's gone," she repeated. She stepped back a couple more steps, feeling like, if she could, she would be able to breathe easier. "Do not come here again."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"No," the vampire responded honestly. She turned and walked away. "Goodbye Emma. Don't forget your gloves."
"But I-" Scribbs began, but she saw the long bare digets wave half-heartedly in parting, and suddenly, Ash was gone. The blonde looked down, tears flooding her eyes. She saw as she looked on the ground, a blur of black, and bent to pick up a pair of gloves. She slipped them on and brought her hands to her face, trying to take in the smell of Ash, but it just wasn't there. The gloves were new. Slowly, Scribbs walked back to her car and after a while, got it started enough to get her back to the motel room her and Ash had been in the night she died.
In the small amount of shadow she found, Ash looked on. "It is done. She will not come back looking for me."
"She is a stubborn one. You cops all are," a voice responded. She didn't look for the source. She knew and expected both the presense and his words.
"I've done as you asked, so tell me, where is the gypsy? The one who could restore my soul?" There was a laugh, as if the presense found her amusing.
"Once one gets a soul, you all want one," he said, but a peice of paper was passed to her. "It won't be easy."
"I gave up my soul for her. I believe this host body would do what it can to get it back for her as well. Either way, that is not your concern anymore." There was another chuckle, and she growled at him. "Fuck off, Marcus," she snapped, and with that, she was gone, Marcus Van Sciver's laughter following behind her. She WOULD get her soul back. At this point, it was the only thing that kept her from walking into the sunrise and turning to dust.
End
by Erin Griffin
Fandom: Murder In Suburbia/Buffy/Blade:The Series mention
Pairing: Ash/Scribbs, Spike/Drucilla mention
Rating: R for language, violence, character death
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy, ITV, Marvel/Touchstone owns them.
Spoilers: None, really. You just need to konw the characters a little bit.
Note: Written in about an hour and a half early in the morning with no beta. Partially inspired by the Ghost Rider movie, and a phrase said in tonight's (9/20/09) episode of Drop Dead Diva, I thought I would try something a little different for these two.
Scribbs stuck her hands in her pockets after she'd blown on them and rubbed them together furiously. She wished she had remembered her gloves, and she thought about them, their warmth inviting at home on her dining room table. She bounced on the balls of her feet trying to keep warm as snow fell around her. It was dark out, with the grey-ish kind of purple the snowy night gave her. The blonde stood and waited, her heart thumping, her hands freezing, and her mind racing. She looked as far as the snow would allow in both directions, her eyes quinting through the whiteness. Never before had she cursed the purity, but she did this time, as she couldn't see who she was looking for. "Damn it," Scribbs muttered when the wind picked up and a shiver went through her. Her fingers were growing numb, but she still stood there waiting. She knew she would wait until daylight, when she knew better.
"You shouldn't be here."
Scribbs jumped at the voice, so similar, so authorative. So Ash. Scribbs felt the effects of this voice as she slowly looked around for the source, only seeing shadows. Only she could hide so well in all of the white, her pale skin possibly serving perfectly as camaflauge. "You say that everytime," Scribbs responded, as she always did. That did the trick; she heard a whoosh that wasn't in sync with the winds around her, and the one woman she was looking for stood before her. She wore a long black coat, buttoned all the way up, and a blue scarf was around her neck. Ash's hair was done up in a way Scribbs never had seen it before, held together with two long pins. She looked so much younger, but she already knew that ever since...
"And I mean it everytime," Ash shot back. She tried to sound threatening, but Scribbs knew otherwise, which angered the brunette each time. "You cannot be here, Scribbs. It is too dangerous."
"I had to see you. You know that," Scribbs told her. There was a waver in her voice, letting Ash know that tears would soon follow.
"Don't, please." Ash's own voice broke, and she instinctively stepped forward. She closed her eyes when she got a certain distance from the blonde, knowing that she would still see the changes in her face. "You know I can't stand to see you hurt, that is why you must go. This visit won't do anything else. For the both of us." Ash felt a hand on her cheek that was colder than her own face, which was almost impossible. She looked at the bare hand of Emma Scribbins, and took it in hers. She could feel the temperature difference, and this worried her. Scribbs was never supposed to be warmer than her.
"I needed to see you," Scribbs said again, forcing Ash's face to look at her with the other frozen set of fingers. There, she looked into Ash's eyes, but they were unfamiliar in many ways. They were yellow now, as they had been since that night, and her face was shaped into that of someone Scribbs knew wasn't her partner. And when Ash spoke next, Scribbs knew that she would see the elongated canine teeth. And through these changes, there was still something there, something that will always tell the blonde that she was beautiful. "I love you, Ash. I always will, and I know that you love me too. You loved me so much, you gave up your soul." Ash swallowed, her head looking down at the snow on her heavy shoes. The memory of that night ran between them as the wind blew in place of their conversation.
(OMGFLASHBACK)
It had been a cold night like the one they stood in, both of them bundled and on their way back to their motel room after a confrence held in London. Ash and Scribbs had gone out for dinner, and then walked around the area for a little while. Though their romantic relationship was new, it had been developing through their friendship and partnership for a long time before that. As they took their time hand in hand back to the motel, Ash kept feeling as though the pair were being followed, and a moment or two later, her suspitions were correct, as they had been confronted by a fairly odd couple. They were otherwise the only ones on the cold dark pavement. The man, straight out of a Billie Idol music video, stood against his frail girlfriend, who stared at them with a small glitter in her otherwise vacant eyes. "Look, Doll. Supper."
"No, they're such a cute couple."
"A dinner show, then?" the peroxided blonde man asked, and the young woman looked as if he had been reading her mind. Already, Scribbs had her hand in her pocket, readying it around her retractable baton. Ash stood tall, moving Scribbs slightly behind her.
"I advise you to let us pass. We'll have nothing to do with your entertainment," Ash told them, and they only laughed.
"You hear that, Pet?" The blonde man was all smiles and he moved, so quickly that Ash barely blinked before the link between the women was severed by a rough arm around her shoulders. She hit him a couple of times with her elbow to the stomach, the first one having no affect on her attacker, but the second one causing him to back up a little bit only because of the force of the blow, not the attack itself. The hold on her got tighter, and Ash could see the young woman held Scribbs in a hold that seem to defy her fragile body.
"Ash!"
"I can smell the love all over you. Such a sweet smell." The woman said softly, almost in a song. Ash's eyes widened as the young woman's mouth opened wide, revealing long canines that she intended to harm Scribbs with.
"NO! Scribbs!" Ash struggled in earnest now, kicking at the blonde man. She got him in the legs a few times, and he eventually let go only slightly, which allowed her to fight out of his grip. The man seemed momentarily confused. Ash turned towards her partner and girlfriend, ducking under the man's swipe. She ran towards the woman holding her partner, knocking the three to the ground. "Run, Scribbs!"
"No!"
"RUN SCRIBBS!!" Ash shouted. Instead of listening, Scribbs extracted her baton, showing it to them plainly at her side, ready to fight. Ash was slow to get up from the tumble, and Scribbs didn't like that. There was a laugh.
"Oh, I like you two," he said appretiatively, hitting Scribbs' arm, which forced her to drop her baton. His sharp fangs and contorted face showed now. He growled as he advanced, and wrapped a hand around Scribbs' throat and held her up off of the ground. He loved the fear he saw there in the blonde's eyes.
"Make her pretty greens pop out like that toy I like," the woman said happily while kicking the brunette detective. Suddenly, she was holding Ash down with a boot to the neck, and she spoke to the blonde man as if a child speaking to an older brother.
"Anything for you, Gorgeous," the man replied, obeying the woman and hearing the gasps of air that wouldn't come to Scribbs' lungs. "What was that? I can't quite hear you." He laughed, looking at the two of them.
Ash reached around for something, anything to fight with. Unlike Scribbs, she didn't bring her baton with her everywhere. She regretted that now. Something hit her fingers, and it felt slightly sharp. A large peice of glass cut into her own hand as she wrapped her fingers around it, and she jabbed it into the leg on her throat. The woman looked down at her. "My stockings!" the woman said in distress. "Edith won't like this at all." Whatever the woman was murmuring about, it made her move away from Ash, preoccupied with her dress now. Ash tried to go after the woman again with the glass, holding the young woman to her, who didn't even seem to see what was going on anymore.
"No!" she heard the man call. "Don't hurt her!"
"Let her go. Please." When there was no movement, Ash pressed the glass to the pale skin, lightly. The man litterally threw Scribbs away from him. She hit a wall of a building and was knocked out instantly. "Scribbs," Ash said helplessly. She shoved the frail woman at the bleached man, who caught her. She ran to Scribbs and helped her up, doing her best to drag her. She felt herself being yanked violently from her spot besides Scribbs, and the blonde detective fell back to the ground.
"I won't hurt your little girlfriend, but trust me, you both will suffer!" the man said in a snarl. He opened his mouth wide and Ash felt his teeth sink painfully into her and the life slowly leave her veins as they flowed into this man- this monster's mouth, a few drops dripping onto the both of them in his blood lust.
A while later, Scribbs woke up with a throbbing head. She looked around to find that their attackers were gone. She called out hoarsely for her partner and didn't receive a responce. She stumbed on her hands and knees, and then she saw a sight that made her sob. She hurried over to the fallen body of Kate Ashurst. Scribbs' shaking hand touched the cold skin of her lover, and she looked over at the two holes in her neck. She knew. She knew that Ash was dead.
(OMGENDFLASHBACK)
When Scribbs' mind allowed her to fall out of the memories of that night, memories of Ash's dead body, and a night later when someone claimed that Ash's grave had been robbed completely, body and all, she found herself in Ash's arms. They both didn't seem to have felt it in that time, but there was always that pull between them, even if whatever occupied Ash's body wasn't truly her partner. The arms around her felt the same, though there was no breathing in her ear, no heartbeat under her cheek. Ash seemed to suddenly remember these things as well, and she backed away. "You must go now."
"We just got here," Scribbs protested, putting her hands back into her pockets and sheilding herself from the wind.
"It is dangerous for us to be around eachother. There are so many of us now, so many Houses, clans, and families in the hidden world that have eyes on all of us... vegetarian, barbarian- whatever- vampires. If I am too close to who I was as a human... My sire may have his soul back, but the rest of them don't, and they won't hesitate to make sure I know where my loyalties are supposed to lie."
"Ash..."
The brunette placed her hands carefully on Scribbs's shoulders to force her to look at her and to pay close attnetion. "Please... I'm not who I once was. That is so obvious, but I can't seem to make you see. This body, these memories, they are all about you, but you see, the one who truly loves you, the one who deserves your love in return- She's dead." The shoulders under her hands shook, and Scribbs began to sob. The vampire's throat closed as its host body yearned to hold this woman again, to make love to her. The longer they stood there, though, its other instinct was to rip through her beautiful neck and take all it had to offer. Maybe there could be a compromise; she could turn her- No! Her host body wouldn't allow that. This was why she had to warn her. "Let me go, Emma Scribbins. She's gone," she repeated. She stepped back a couple more steps, feeling like, if she could, she would be able to breathe easier. "Do not come here again."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"No," the vampire responded honestly. She turned and walked away. "Goodbye Emma. Don't forget your gloves."
"But I-" Scribbs began, but she saw the long bare digets wave half-heartedly in parting, and suddenly, Ash was gone. The blonde looked down, tears flooding her eyes. She saw as she looked on the ground, a blur of black, and bent to pick up a pair of gloves. She slipped them on and brought her hands to her face, trying to take in the smell of Ash, but it just wasn't there. The gloves were new. Slowly, Scribbs walked back to her car and after a while, got it started enough to get her back to the motel room her and Ash had been in the night she died.
In the small amount of shadow she found, Ash looked on. "It is done. She will not come back looking for me."
"She is a stubborn one. You cops all are," a voice responded. She didn't look for the source. She knew and expected both the presense and his words.
"I've done as you asked, so tell me, where is the gypsy? The one who could restore my soul?" There was a laugh, as if the presense found her amusing.
"Once one gets a soul, you all want one," he said, but a peice of paper was passed to her. "It won't be easy."
"I gave up my soul for her. I believe this host body would do what it can to get it back for her as well. Either way, that is not your concern anymore." There was another chuckle, and she growled at him. "Fuck off, Marcus," she snapped, and with that, she was gone, Marcus Van Sciver's laughter following behind her. She WOULD get her soul back. At this point, it was the only thing that kept her from walking into the sunrise and turning to dust.
End