paradisalogs | (no subject)

Who: Spike (

heloise, and Joshua (

ofhope)
What: They keep bodies in the cellar.
When: Seven days after death.
Where: The mansion.
Rating: PG-13

A week later, and Spike was awake.

When he opened his eyes to complete blackness, he didn't immediately comprehend the difference of breathing air into his lungs, or the clamminess of that air as it circled around him. Only when his heart began to accelerate, and after he brought an arm up to find the limited space of a softly lined box, did he feel that something had changed. Briefly panicked, he shoved at the lid until it swung open and revealed an increasingly alarming scene.

With memory lingering, like a dream that seemed both excruciating and numbingly quiet, he took his time to work himself through the confusing mess of what happened. He died, it seemed, and for a second time his body rejected the idea. If it was ever his decision. Death was never what Spike anticipated, but somehow he never thought of finding himself in something as traditional as a coffin. Or in a suit as nice as the one he belatedly noticed himself wearing. Which meant someone had taken a bizarre interest in his funeral arrangements.

His was the only body he could see in the room; although when scanning the area, his eyes rested too long on an old soda machine stored in the corner. Weird collection. -- Maybe that should have been a sign to get out as soon as possible, but instead he moved slowly, as if his limbs were still relearning how to function.

Eventually, he ventured to the stairs and the door that blocked them at the top. A locked door, as it turned out. At first, he considered knocking, but quickly changed his mind. He took two steps back and kicked just below the handle to send the whole thing splintering open in a remarkably loud bang that nearly caused him to flinch back in surprise. Even still, Spike pulled his head out to the other side, and looked up and down the hallway and let its odd familiarity slowly dawn on him.

...

The mansion. Suddenly it made sense.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He opens his mouth to answer Lucrezia, but nothing comes out, so he shuts it again. Of course, she'd become the one person who he'd managed to track down on the ship more than once, at the cost of others who he did even less for. Some of the faces he saw stirs up some kind of residual reaction in him that builds the tension in his shoulders.

Her hand is just as warm as the rest of her. Or maybe his body temperature hasn't reached a normal level yet. Spike doesn't really get how it works when it's so different from his last experience, but it gives him something new to focus on. Aside from payment, which mostly goes over his head.

"Yeah," he blurts out in answer to Joshua's easier question, even if it's a complete guess on his part. He hasn't eaten in days, so he must be, right?

Never mind the answer then, payments can wait. He can name whatever he wants for all she cares, if only because she thinks he would ask for something trivial. He doesn't strike her as covetous.

She doesn't notice any tension, perhaps she only wishes it away, moving away then to step closer to Joshua, looking over her shoulder to see that Spike follows. She does like having someone to pamper and a good reason to, when Joshua is so easily pleased with marshmallows and other simple things. Still, she has a suspicion that Spike is just the same.

"What are you hungry for? Pheasant? Rabbit? Name it and it will be served," she would send the maids on a kitchen rush that is.

Joshua has to chuckle at Lucrezia's suggestions, heading in the direction of the kitchen. Might as well. It's doubtful that Spike will want to sit around and watch Lucrezia sew while Joshua naps or reads some more. He can't even include the poor mortal in his training.

So food it is. He loves food.

"I don't know. He's looking pretty pale... Maybe he needs some virgin blood. That's supposed to taste the best, Zelman said."

Spike was about to shrug and say 'sure' to any suggestion they had, but Joshua's comment makes him pause in following them, like he's just now paying attention. Joking or not, his stomach churns at the idea. There's probably a supply of that in a freezer here somewhere.

He really picked some good people to take favors from.

"I'm not that hungry."

They certainly do more exciting things than sew and nap and read, but those things Spike might be even more averse to watching, if his last visit was anything to go by. Lucrezia laughs at the suggestion, turning to Joshua and playing along. Where is the fun in having guests over otherwise?

"Will one of the maids do, do you think?" Never mind what Spike said about not being hungry. Guests should never refuse food when served by the host, that would be rude. "Or I might have to call on acquaintances."

There is always the more innocent form of dancing instead, which Spike couldn't claim any punishment worse than boredom of he watched! Joshua even does plenty on his own time, but those hours are spent away from the mansion, weapons and all. The one thing Spike might be able to be interested in, but Joshua's level of training really was no place for him, as much as he thinks again now he'd love to drag him along, seeing the state the cellar door is in as they pass.

"Hard to tell who's a virgin these days... That's something he should just be able to tell by tasting, I think. Might have to go through a few before he hits the jackpot. But I think they need a lot of blood when they first wake up, anyway. I definitely read that somewhere."

His eyes narrow as they go on, obvious in their implications. He'd like to think they're teasing, but it doesn't help that he can imagine them acting the same way if they aren't. In either case, his appetite is dwindling the more they go on, which is probably proof enough. -- As if he's honestly considering the possibility. He really is out of it.

"I'd hate to be picky." He mutters, keeping his reaction as bland as he can. Although he should be careful, since they did pull out a coffin from somewhere. There's something called taking a joke too far.

That is the sort of dancing Lucrezia would want to watch too, even if Joshua has reason enough not to show her. Everyone has their secrets. Maybe even Spike, and she isn't so generous to allow him that when she can try to find out. There is no limit to how far she would take this game.

She reaches for Joshua's hand and surveys Spike like a newly minted member of their secret circle. He cleans up pretty nice.

"We might as well take wild guesses then. Young or older? Blonde, I assume." Joshua sure did give her a few tips.

And those weren't tips she was really supposed to flaunt in front of Spike, although Joshua's expression doesn't even flinch at the mentioning. Lucrezia could just be saying that because she's a narcissist, and that would not be a far off assumption, anyway.

At least he has the grace not to include any other specific traits, then or now. "If he's not picky, we'll just invite over one of your friends who feel charitable."

On top of it all, Lucrezia's comment seems to stand out as the strangest thing he could have heard. Almost surreal. Did the two of them gossip while he was...? Is that what he's dealing with now? He glances at Joshua as he attempts to cover up the slip.

"That's enough," he mutters when he finishes, too low to be at all threatening. Although that seems to be open to interpretation.

He wants to say that he's not one of the undead, but he isn't quite there yet. At least, not to the point where he can make light of whatever he went through, as much as he'd prefer to join them over whatever he's feeling now. If it weren't for the sudden twist in his stomach, he'd actually try to find a place to sleep it off. "Thanks, but I've had enough hospitality."

The quiet and mysterious ones too, but those seem strange traits to mention when it comes to drinking blood from someone. She slows her steps when Spike calls the magic word, or so it seems, time to end the joking perhaps. It is easier to make light of darker things, like death, when the Castle ruins its finality.

"No, you must at least stay the night," Lucrezia knows to drop her smile, a nod to his annoyance maybe, but he was never the easiest to read. But she thinks he can't say no to his hostess if he still means to be polite. "Then you can leave however and whenever you wish."