5. FEAST

[hismasterpiece]

[Voice]

Hallo, pretty New Feathers! I am hosting a feast. A feast by the lake to the West.

[Not the southern lake -- she needs to keep certain peoples' attention away from the lonely house she inhabits there.]

You are all invited! I have prepared something for you. It tastes of mint and chicory and iron! Yarrow and tansy! It will make you stronger.


Come.

[/Voice]

[Action]

Drusilla will be stalking about the woods as usual, eager to assist anyone who HASN'T heeded her invitation.

There is a cage waiting there, hidden under the trees. It is large enough to house a full-grown adult human.

It tastes of mint and iron.

[/Action]

Comments

[herotypical]

"He wouldn't," she argued with such conviction. Such strength of faith and certainty. Spike -- her special cause among vampires and her Blood-drinkers Anonymous padawan -- couldn't have fallen so far, could he...?

[hismasterpiece]

"But I made him a promise, slayer. I promised him no more human blood."

That she practically purred.

"No more, I promised. So he would stay."

[herotypical]

"Reality check, Drusilla. He's not staying with you. Kinda has a permanent room back at Chateau Slayer."

[namesthestars]

"IS. He is staying! Promised me, Spike did! And I shall eat your eyes like olives and be cheerful!"

[herotypical]

"I really think they're more grape-green than olive-green. Nice try, though."

She had to talk to Spike. God help her, but she couldn't stay here and play smack the pyscho. Buffy backed up.

"Enjoy your creepy naked marsh romp."

[hismasterpiece]

"It will be better when he returns to me. Then we shall romp naked again.


And again and again and again. He is my love."

Bye, Buffy. Enjoy your future conversations with Spike.