![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: The Night of Stingy Jack
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/Drusilla
Warnings: R for gore, Spru-mayhem, and other icky things.
Summary: Spike and Drusilla have a cozy, intimate Halloween party.
The Night of Stingy Jack
Halloween, 1985: Nashville, Tennessee.
The suburb of Green Hills was crawling with small goblins and miniature Madonnas as All Hallow's Eve drew on into the night. Parents stood on the sidewalk as their offspring toddled up to doorbell after doorbell, receiving treats in their plastic pails. Groups of Vanderbilt University co-eds laughed jovially as they headed down the streets to parties for more adult-themed holiday fun. However, the frivolity was tinged with an undercurrent of fear, and the adults kept more of a wary eye out than one would expect for such an affluent area. Everyone knew what happened to poor little Marcia Trimble ten years earlier, snatched from the sidewalk while innocently delivering Girl Scout cookies by an unknown monster, a monster that didn't wear a mask or hide in the shadows, possibly still walking amongst them a decade later despite the best efforts of the police. No one dared to spoil the children's festivities by mentioning such things, but the parents watched closely none-the-less. Yet behind closed curtains, two real monsters were content to leave the little bitties to their fun and treat-gathering.
Drusilla looked thoughtfully at her pumpkin, tilting her head this way and that, waiting for the proper inspiration to strike for its expression. It was a very strange pumpkin, and she had a dreadful time getting through the rind to scoop out the pulp for the perfect Jack O'Lantern grin. Her Spike had been so clever to take care of that problem with an electric belt-sander from the house's garage. That didn't stop the silly pumpkin from spitting strange seeds at her along the way.
Picking one of the hard white seeds from her sparkly blue princess dress, Drusilla called out to Spike, "Our dear Jack is almost ready!"
The peroxided blonde vampire was relaxing on the couch in the house's living room, a bowl of candy corn resting on his stomach as he watched a creature feature on the television. His blood-sopped hand dipped lazily into the bowl, pulling out a handful of the sugary stuff before shoving the morsels into his mouth. He winced in pain as he chewed, throwing a glare at an innocuous-appearing half-eaten candy apple on the floor.
"Oh, yes, he was a trickster pumpkin," Drusilla hummed tuneless as she carved out the lantern's eyes, her hand taking tight hold to a snare of stem to steady it as pulp and mush poured out, "No treats for girls or boys, just nasty, naughty tricks."
"Naughty is an understatement, Pet," Spike groused, as he stood up, not able to see Dru applying her craft in the kitchen.
Looking over his shoulder, Spike could see the small glint of metal inside the candy apple reflected from the glow of the television. It made his tongue throb in the memory of pain.
"We have the whole year to walk about without fear. Human sprogs should be allowed one night to do the same," Spike said as he went over to the large spread of Halloween treats that had been prepared near the front door.
There was a dazzling array of homemade goodies- ruby red candy apples, popcorn balls, and a bowl of deep green fruit punch poured into festive pumpkin-shaped cups. Unfortunately, as Spike discovered early in the evening, these treats were all just the gingerbread cottage hiding the furnace within. The apples contained nails, screws, and razor-blades while the popcorn balls were laced with the stale almond scent of cyanide. The punch had a pungent sweet odor Spike now recognized as anti-freeze. The only things that remained harmless were the bowl of candy corn and another of Necco Wafers.
While looking for a quiet place to spend Halloween in privacy, the intrepid vampires had been invited inside the quaint little suburban home by an elderly man to have some refreshments. Though Spike would have preferred his dinner to have been younger, he wasn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth, especially when it was offering him sweets that didn't come store-bought. This restful attitude was quickly dashed when a razorblade nearly sliced through Spike's tongue at the first bite of candied apple. There was also a sharp tingle on his lips from the red syrup that Spike supposed was a drug of some sort. Unfortunately for the old crank, a vampire's constitution could withstand much more than a human's, and Drusilla easily incapacitated him while Spike tended to the cut on the inside of his mouth.
As they explored the home, Spike and Dru found a girl in a princess costume in a back bedroom. Her cat-shaped plastic treat bucket was spilled out on the floor, scattering Hershey Kisses, Tootsie Pops, and licorice pinwheels on the dirty shag carpeting. She was several hours dead, vomit encrusted around her lips, likely from the poisoned punch. Drusilla fancied the blue dress with all its glittering sequins, so she took it for herself, not minding the smell of decomposition and effluvia. The costume was too small even for Dru's slender frame, and the seams began to split in the shoulders as she continued to work away on her pumpkin, whittling out the nose and trying to break through a mysterious second layer of hard rind.
The doorbell rang, and Spike froze for a moment. Grabbing the bowl with the rolls of Necco Wafers and not the one with blood-soaked candy corn, he opened the door to see a small group of girls being herded around by a den mother. The older woman had a look of surprise on her face.
"Oh," she spoke, "I didn't really expect anyone to answer. Mr. Eddowes usually doesn't "do" Halloween."
Spike smiled a very charming smile, "Really? My uncle loves Halloween." Oh, convenient, simple lies cultivated from years of experience and practice.
"Your uncle? I didn't realize Mr. Eddowes had any family..." the woman replied as Spike let the little girls grab their fill of Necco Wafers from the bowl. "It's nice that he's participating in the trick-or-treating this year. I always thought he didn't like children very much."
"I think he finally felt like getting into the spirit of things," Spike stood at the door, watching the woman lead her troop of little fairies, witches, and bumblebees across the street to the next house.
Drusilla bounced on the balls of her feet at the entrance to the kitchen, her costume spattered with blood, dripping onto the carpet, "They all looked so sweet! Couldn't I have just one? The little pixies look like they'd taste of cotton candy and spiderwebbing."
"Now, now, Love," Spike chided as he shut the door, "tonight we leave the littlest 'uns alone." Smirking he added, "We'll come back at Christmas, and you can have your fill of the tiny darlings then."
Giving a small squeal of glee, Drusilla rushed over, kissing Spike on the lips, making him groan as her tongue brushed over the cut on his. He pressed his body close to hers, his hands slipping down to fondle her bottom through thin cotton panties.
Playfully giving him a shove, Drusilla pouted, "Before we can have a game, you have to see my Jack!"
Proudly leading her beau into the kitchen, Drusilla presented her perfectly carved Jack O'Lantern with a great flourish of her arms. Spike kissed her hands, complimenting her on her artistry, though the pumpkin seemed to be missing something.
"Oh, yes, it still needs its candles," Drusilla nodded, and then she asked as she poked at it with a sharp fingernail, "And how are we ever going to remove it from its stalk?"
Spike mulled it over in his head before grinning, "I think there was a circular-saw in the garage when I got the belt-sander."
As they settled their Old Stingy Jack on the front steps of the house, candles glowing from the empty eye sockets and gaping maw, wax melting in with blood and pus, Spike and Dru felt that they had really brightened the place up. One would think that they would have hated to work on their one night off out of the year, but who could turn down such fun?
x-posted on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nekid_spike and darker_spike.
Author:
fenderlovePairing: Spike/Drusilla
Warnings: R for gore, Spru-mayhem, and other icky things.
Summary: Spike and Drusilla have a cozy, intimate Halloween party.
The Night of Stingy Jack
Halloween, 1985: Nashville, Tennessee.
The suburb of Green Hills was crawling with small goblins and miniature Madonnas as All Hallow's Eve drew on into the night. Parents stood on the sidewalk as their offspring toddled up to doorbell after doorbell, receiving treats in their plastic pails. Groups of Vanderbilt University co-eds laughed jovially as they headed down the streets to parties for more adult-themed holiday fun. However, the frivolity was tinged with an undercurrent of fear, and the adults kept more of a wary eye out than one would expect for such an affluent area. Everyone knew what happened to poor little Marcia Trimble ten years earlier, snatched from the sidewalk while innocently delivering Girl Scout cookies by an unknown monster, a monster that didn't wear a mask or hide in the shadows, possibly still walking amongst them a decade later despite the best efforts of the police. No one dared to spoil the children's festivities by mentioning such things, but the parents watched closely none-the-less. Yet behind closed curtains, two real monsters were content to leave the little bitties to their fun and treat-gathering.
Drusilla looked thoughtfully at her pumpkin, tilting her head this way and that, waiting for the proper inspiration to strike for its expression. It was a very strange pumpkin, and she had a dreadful time getting through the rind to scoop out the pulp for the perfect Jack O'Lantern grin. Her Spike had been so clever to take care of that problem with an electric belt-sander from the house's garage. That didn't stop the silly pumpkin from spitting strange seeds at her along the way.
Picking one of the hard white seeds from her sparkly blue princess dress, Drusilla called out to Spike, "Our dear Jack is almost ready!"
The peroxided blonde vampire was relaxing on the couch in the house's living room, a bowl of candy corn resting on his stomach as he watched a creature feature on the television. His blood-sopped hand dipped lazily into the bowl, pulling out a handful of the sugary stuff before shoving the morsels into his mouth. He winced in pain as he chewed, throwing a glare at an innocuous-appearing half-eaten candy apple on the floor.
"Oh, yes, he was a trickster pumpkin," Drusilla hummed tuneless as she carved out the lantern's eyes, her hand taking tight hold to a snare of stem to steady it as pulp and mush poured out, "No treats for girls or boys, just nasty, naughty tricks."
"Naughty is an understatement, Pet," Spike groused, as he stood up, not able to see Dru applying her craft in the kitchen.
Looking over his shoulder, Spike could see the small glint of metal inside the candy apple reflected from the glow of the television. It made his tongue throb in the memory of pain.
"We have the whole year to walk about without fear. Human sprogs should be allowed one night to do the same," Spike said as he went over to the large spread of Halloween treats that had been prepared near the front door.
There was a dazzling array of homemade goodies- ruby red candy apples, popcorn balls, and a bowl of deep green fruit punch poured into festive pumpkin-shaped cups. Unfortunately, as Spike discovered early in the evening, these treats were all just the gingerbread cottage hiding the furnace within. The apples contained nails, screws, and razor-blades while the popcorn balls were laced with the stale almond scent of cyanide. The punch had a pungent sweet odor Spike now recognized as anti-freeze. The only things that remained harmless were the bowl of candy corn and another of Necco Wafers.
While looking for a quiet place to spend Halloween in privacy, the intrepid vampires had been invited inside the quaint little suburban home by an elderly man to have some refreshments. Though Spike would have preferred his dinner to have been younger, he wasn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth, especially when it was offering him sweets that didn't come store-bought. This restful attitude was quickly dashed when a razorblade nearly sliced through Spike's tongue at the first bite of candied apple. There was also a sharp tingle on his lips from the red syrup that Spike supposed was a drug of some sort. Unfortunately for the old crank, a vampire's constitution could withstand much more than a human's, and Drusilla easily incapacitated him while Spike tended to the cut on the inside of his mouth.
As they explored the home, Spike and Dru found a girl in a princess costume in a back bedroom. Her cat-shaped plastic treat bucket was spilled out on the floor, scattering Hershey Kisses, Tootsie Pops, and licorice pinwheels on the dirty shag carpeting. She was several hours dead, vomit encrusted around her lips, likely from the poisoned punch. Drusilla fancied the blue dress with all its glittering sequins, so she took it for herself, not minding the smell of decomposition and effluvia. The costume was too small even for Dru's slender frame, and the seams began to split in the shoulders as she continued to work away on her pumpkin, whittling out the nose and trying to break through a mysterious second layer of hard rind.
The doorbell rang, and Spike froze for a moment. Grabbing the bowl with the rolls of Necco Wafers and not the one with blood-soaked candy corn, he opened the door to see a small group of girls being herded around by a den mother. The older woman had a look of surprise on her face.
"Oh," she spoke, "I didn't really expect anyone to answer. Mr. Eddowes usually doesn't "do" Halloween."
Spike smiled a very charming smile, "Really? My uncle loves Halloween." Oh, convenient, simple lies cultivated from years of experience and practice.
"Your uncle? I didn't realize Mr. Eddowes had any family..." the woman replied as Spike let the little girls grab their fill of Necco Wafers from the bowl. "It's nice that he's participating in the trick-or-treating this year. I always thought he didn't like children very much."
"I think he finally felt like getting into the spirit of things," Spike stood at the door, watching the woman lead her troop of little fairies, witches, and bumblebees across the street to the next house.
Drusilla bounced on the balls of her feet at the entrance to the kitchen, her costume spattered with blood, dripping onto the carpet, "They all looked so sweet! Couldn't I have just one? The little pixies look like they'd taste of cotton candy and spiderwebbing."
"Now, now, Love," Spike chided as he shut the door, "tonight we leave the littlest 'uns alone." Smirking he added, "We'll come back at Christmas, and you can have your fill of the tiny darlings then."
Giving a small squeal of glee, Drusilla rushed over, kissing Spike on the lips, making him groan as her tongue brushed over the cut on his. He pressed his body close to hers, his hands slipping down to fondle her bottom through thin cotton panties.
Playfully giving him a shove, Drusilla pouted, "Before we can have a game, you have to see my Jack!"
Proudly leading her beau into the kitchen, Drusilla presented her perfectly carved Jack O'Lantern with a great flourish of her arms. Spike kissed her hands, complimenting her on her artistry, though the pumpkin seemed to be missing something.
"Oh, yes, it still needs its candles," Drusilla nodded, and then she asked as she poked at it with a sharp fingernail, "And how are we ever going to remove it from its stalk?"
Spike mulled it over in his head before grinning, "I think there was a circular-saw in the garage when I got the belt-sander."
As they settled their Old Stingy Jack on the front steps of the house, candles glowing from the empty eye sockets and gaping maw, wax melting in with blood and pus, Spike and Dru felt that they had really brightened the place up. One would think that they would have hated to work on their one night off out of the year, but who could turn down such fun?
x-posted on
nekid_spike and darker_spike.