Fanfic: Paragon Of Animals - Alternate Ending (1/1)

[smokingmirror]

Title: Paragon Of Animals - Alternate Ending
Author: Avarice
Rating: R (character death, disturbing imagery)
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Spoilers: -
Summary: Spike finally gets everything he deserves.
Word Count: 1059
Date First Posted: - 2001
Date Revised - 13-05-2011
Beta: -
Awards: -
Notes: Improv fic - sepia, memory, wish, revenge. This is the first version of Paragon Of Animals. At the time of writing, while this ending had impact, I felt that it could've had more, so I rewrote it. Ultimately I didn't have the heart to scrap this one, though, because it did have its own good points. I think the ending I rewrote and subsequently sent out to the world was a lot stronger, though.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.

Buffy Summers was dead.

The Slayer lay face down in a growing pool of her own blood. Her right arm was twisted in an unnatural fashion behind her back, the broken radius poking through skin. Her left was on the other side of the crypt, resting on top of the television set that silently played a fuzzy version of some Jimmy Stewart movie.

The severed arm thumped the tv.

"Damn bloody piece of cheap chinese garbage... you know, reception here has always sucked," the blond vampire muttered, annoyed. He continued to pound the top of the set using the detached limb until the picture cleared up.

"There we are!" he smiled, considerably more pleased.

Spike glanced back to the body. "Aww... what's the matter, Slayer? Can't see the telly?" He trotted over to her prone body. Grabbing a fistful of sepia-coloured hair due to her spilled essence, he yanked her head up. The dead girl's face was caked with drying blood, and clouded hazel eyes stared blankly. Her eyelids were missing, making it impossible for the lifeless orbs to ever be closed in some form of respect.

"You know, Buffy," Spike dropped his voice and ran a finger down her face tenderly, "in all my memory, never have you looked so lovely..." He lifted his blood-coated finger to his mouth and sucked greedily. Yanking her the rest of the way up, the blond vampire flung her body backwards, listening in rapture as it thudded against the sarcophagus.

Strolling over to her slumped form, he sat her up as if she were a doll being placed on a shelf. Booted feet squelched on the stone floor, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Well really, Slayer," Spike tsked, getting his hands covered in gore, "if you will just let your internal organs fall about like this... there's nothing much I can do for you, is there?" He pulled at her intestinal tract delicately, so as not to sever the tissue. Spike looped it around the gaping hole in her neck and tied it like a cravat.

He shifted her head so that she faced the television. Stepping back, Spike brushed his hands together and surveyed his handiwork. And he saw that it was good. He crouched down next to her nude, battered body. "My my, you do look every inch the big girl on campus with that daring new fashion statement... what would your mother say?" Spike paused, tapping a bloody finger to his lips. "Oh, that's right, Joyce is dead! Poor woman, too... you should've really learnt to revoke invitations by now; latin phrases, crosses, godawful gypsy stink herbs... you know, the regular stuff."

The blond got up and walked over to a corner where his duster was draped over a stool. He turned back to the corpse as he picked up the leather coat and began to put it on.

"But I guess that was lost on you. I really thought -- and stop me if you've heard this before -- that you'd gotten smarter with age. Well, shame on me, I kind of assumed you would." Spike patted the leather affectionately and moved the stool to a place beside her where he sat on it, facing the television.

"But, unlive and learn, as I always say. You didn't get smarter. You actually forgot some of the things you used to know... the principle one being 'never turn your back on an enemy.' " The vampire cocked an eyebrow. "S'not really my problem, I guess. After all," he waggled his eyebrows, "your lapse in judgment suited me just fine..." Receiving no response, he shrugged and turned back to the television.

There was a soft footfall outside. Spike's head whipped around and he watched his sire enter his home. His eyes twinkled merrily as mahogany eyes surveyed the grotesque state of the crypt. "D'you like what I've done with the place since you were last here?" Spike looked around critically. "I thought of adding a few throw pillows, then decided it would be way too seventies, and left it with the simplicity of the mutilated Slayer." The blond looked up hopefully. "What d'you think?"

The dark-haired vampire's face held an incredulous expression.

"Just... what are you watching?" he asked distastefully.

"'It's A Wonderful Life'", Spike answered, reaching over to turn the volume up. "A bit sappy, but you know me... always the sentimentalist."

"Always..." he replied. The older man strode over to his childe quickly and picked him up off the stool by his lapels. He crushed his mouth against the blond's violently. Releasing him abruptly, the vampire's lips curled in a cruel smirk.

"Did you bring me back a surprise?" Spike asked excitedly.

"I did," he replied. Reaching into a sack he'd dropped to the floor, the other man retrieved a head, still dripping warm blood from the neck. Spike grinned happily and took it in his hands, placing it on a pile of newspapers.

"Well how about that... Droopy Boy actually has a use. Thanks, Peaches!"

The cruel smirk appeared again. "Believe me when I say the pleasure was all mine."

Spike barked out a laugh and looked down at the corpse of his all-too-mortal enemy. "I told you this is what we should have done the first time... pigheaded oaf." The younger vampire stated.

"Hey, if I'd known revenge was going to be this much fun, I would have," Angelus answered.

Spike turned back to the screen. The brunet raised an eyebrow. "Aren't we supposed to be leaving?"

"Yeah, yeah, just a minute, mate. This is my favourite bit." The blond reached forward and turned the TV up as loud as it would go. 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing' piped out of the set's tinny speakers, and Jimmy Stewart's daughter exclaimed 'every time a bell rings, an Angel gets its wings'.

"Speaking of Angels getting their wings," Angelus said, picking up Spike's hand and running his tongue over the congealing blood. "Since I've got mine... how about I get you yours?" The younger vampire looked up at his sire, a curious expression on his face. Angelus filled in the gap. "Let's see if we can't get something done about that behaviour modification chip, eh?"

Spike's face lit up as the dark-haired vampire waved an address in front of his face.

"Merry Christmas, William," he smirked.

~finis