Random*Fandom Monster Mash – Promotional Story
Title: The One with Spike and Drusilla
Character(s) and Fandom 1: Phoebe Buffay – Friends
Character(s) and fandom 2: Spike and Drusilla – Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Monster prompt used: The Phantom of the Opera
Summary: Stranded in Sunnydale, Phoebe charms the locals in a way she never thought imaginable. Set around S2 of Buffy with no set timeline for Friends.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Phoebe and any Friends references belong to David Crane and Marta Kauffman, Spike, Drusilla and all of Sunnydale belong to the God Joss Whedon. The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux.
The One with Spike & Drusilla
The trip started off so well. Phoebe had clear skies and quiet roads all the way from New York. Her Yellow cab kept on going, a real trooper, until she decided to stop off in Sunnydale. It was just meant to be a quick visit to refill the gas tank and her stomach. But when all that was done, the old cab sputtered and refused to start.
Sunnydale – So close to L.A, yet so far.
Exasperated, Phoebe slammed the door of the cab but soon bent in close – apologising for being so mean. She huffed as she walked back into the gas station and tried to get the attention of the cashier.
“Excuse me, sir; is there a mechanic that I can call? My cab won’t start.”
The man laughed and shook his head. “I can take a look at it, our mechanic … he went missing a few days ago and we haven’t found a replacement yet.”
Confused, Phoebe opened the door and started walking to her cab. “Shouldn’t you be looking for him, if he went missing?”
The man eyed her studiously before continuing in a serious tone. “People go missing in this town all the time, Missy. Sometimes they show up again but mostly … they never come back.”
“Wow. That’s probably the most ominous statement anyone’s ever uttered around me.” Phoebe flashed him a wide smile. “So let’s have a look at my ride so I can get the heck outta here!”
The man smiled in understanding and lifted the hood after Phoebe pulled the release. She knew it was bad when a wisps of smoke appeared and the man sucked a breath in through his teeth. She knew it was even worse than that when all he did was tap a couple of things with a small spanner and shake his head.
“Sorry, Miss, whatever’s wrong with this heap up junk is beyond me. You want me to call for a tow truck?”
“That heap of junk belonged to my Grandmother!” Phoebe replied indignantly as she mentally calculated how much money she had in her account. “How much would a tow cost and where would they be taking my car?”
Another breath was sucked in through the man’s teeth. “Could cost you a couple of hundred and you might even wait a day or so for a tow.”
Oh great! “Okay, so basically I’m stuck here for a while.” Without enough money to get back on the road.
The man nodded and helped Phoebe push the cab away from the gas pumps before calling a tow truck from the nearest available mechanic. Sure enough, it would be the next day before they could come and get her car and the tow alone would cost $300. Sighing, Phoebe pushed some stray blonde hairs away from her forehead and slumped her shoulders in defeat.
“Is there anywhere I could get a job and a place to stay until my cab is fixed?”
“Sure.” The man nodded and pointed in the direction of the centre of town. “The Bronze is always looking for folks to help out and there’s a motel nearby.”
Phoebe stopped herself from asking if this ‘Bronze’ place was always looking for help the same way this guy was looking for a mechanic. Instead she smiled, thanked him and tipped him $10 for his trouble. Just because she was broke didn’t mean she had to dispense with basic manners.
Two days later
“What do you mean a couple of weeks?” Phoebe screeched into the phone. “I was supposed to be in L.A by now!”
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but a cab this old … the parts are hard to find. If we get it in sooner we’ll let you know.”
Phoebe sighed and put the phone back in its cradle. She walked around the tables, collecting empty paper cups and coffee mugs and went to drop everything back at the bar. A handsome man was standing, watching the crowd. So she did her job.
“Hi there, did you want a drink?”
He glanced at her briefly before drawing his eyes back to the dance floor. “No, I don’t want a drink.”
“Okay dokey Mr Dark and Brooding.” She snorted and ignored his scowl.
Her shift dragged on beyond the point of her feet throbbing. Eventually, it was time to close the Bronze. She smiled and waved to the owner as he locked up, then she walked around the block and snuck back in through the basement window. After paying for the tow, she didn’t have enough money to rent a motel room. Phoebe sat on her makeshift bed, a blanket on the floor – she’d slept on worse in the course of her life, and strummed her guitar.
“Smelly cat, smelly cat. What are they feeding you?”
In the caverns below, Drusilla’s vampire ears picked up on Phoebe’s dulcet tones. From her sick bed, she called weakly for Spike – her lover, her companion, her rock.
“Can you hear it? It’s ghastly, like nails being drawn down a chalkboard.”
“She’s worse than Johnny Rotten, that’s certain.” Spike nodded and cuddled up to his obsession. “Do you want me to go and kill her? I’d do it for you, pet.”
“No! I love it!” Drusilla’s eyes shone with wonder. “Will you bring her to me? Will you make her sing for me, down here?”
“Anything for my Dru.” Spike placed a lingering kiss on Drusilla’s forehead and sprang out of the bed. “Terrified or willing?”
Drusilla thought for a moment before answering. “Willing – I want to be able to terrify her myself.”
And off he went.
In the basement, Phoebe had put down her guitar and was trying to get some sleep. A scrabbling noise made her frown and sit up from the floor. She looked around the cinder block room, wondering if she had some rat-like buddies squatting with her. Moving around and moving some boxes out of the way, Phoebe found a delightful absence of rodents but her cheer was interrupted by a voice.
“Someone was very impressed by your singing.” Phoebe looked all over, shining her flashlight into every nook and cranny. “Would you like to meet them?”
“Where are you?”
“Hidden, waiting for an answer. Will you come and sing for my Dru?”
Phoebe stepped lightly, trying to follow the voice. “Suuuure. I’ll sing for … Drew. Is he cute?”
A light chuckle resonated from one of the vents in the floor. “Not Drew, Dru – short for Drusilla. And she’s … hypnotically beautiful. Will you come and sing for her?”
“Uh … okay. Where is she?”
“Go to the window, wait for me and I’ll show you the way.”
Phoebe walked over to her blanket and grabbed her guitar before going to the window. She was excited; she’d been requested by someone. As she waited on her mystery guide, she thought about which songs to sing. Phoebe was so absorbed by her planning that, when a pair of scuffed biker boots appeared at the window, she yelped in fright. Spike opened the window and hunkered down to get a look at the owner of the atrocious vocals that Dru had been enamoured by.
“You coming or what?”
Phoebe nodded and climbed out of the window, clutching her guitar to her body protectively as the blond haired man stood straight and stuck his hand out.
“Spike’s the name. You are?”
“Phoebe Buffay. Has anyone told you the Billy Idol look is very 80s?”
Spike bristled but kept his smile firmly on his face. Willing, not terrified. “Haven’t you heard? It’s retro.”
Before Phoebe could say any more, Spike was dragging her by the hand toward the secret entrance to the lair he shared with Drusilla. Phoebe stopped and pulled her hand out of his, pointing to the doorway that had been partially concealed by a bush growing nearby.
“We’re not going into the sewers are we?”
Spike smiled winningly. “Of course not! Sewers … pah! After you, love.”
Phoebe frowned at him and bent to enter the doorway. As she was nearing the entrance, Spike pushed the back of her head – knocking against the top of the entrance and rendering her unconscious.
“Partially willing works for me.”
He picked up Phoebe’s body and guitar and descended into their lair, moving quickly through the sewer tunnels and dropping Phoebe in front of Drusilla triumphantly. Drusilla pouted and slowly made her way to the prone woman, brushing her hair out of her face before smiling.
“For a moment I thought you’d brought me the Slayer. I don’t think her singing would be as entertaining. Wake her up for me, Spike, make her sing for me.”
Spike grinned and picked Phoebe up, placing her in a nearby chair before slapping lightly at her face until she started to come round.
“You better watch where you’re going, Pet. Took a nasty bump on the way through that little door.”
Phoebe blinked and shook her head, bringing a hand to her brow and wincing. “Yeah, I’m not usually quite that clumsy.”
Her eyes widened as she noticed the dark haired woman sitting on the bed, surrounded by china dolls. Drusilla smiled, showing almost all of her lovely white teeth.
“Are you ready to sing for me?”
“Okay, you guys are both English – are you hiding down here because your visas ran out?” Phoebe picked up her guitar and sat back down again. “I don’t want to be arrested for helping illegal aliens or anything.”
Drusilla’s face contorted as her vampire side was revealed. “Sing … or my Spikey will rip your head off.”
“Uh … sure!” Phoebe grinned to try and hide the fact she was consumed by fear and started to play. “My favourite shoes, so good to me; I wear them every day.”
Drusilla clapped excitedly and her fangs retracted her brow and eyes smooth and humanlike once again.
“Down at the heel, holes in the toe; don’t care what people say.”
Spike made his way to Dru’s side as Phoebe filled the lair with her painful version of music. He winced as she raised her voice an octave for the chorus but smiled whenever Dru gazed at him. He would endure anything for her. As the song ended and Phoebe started another, Dru grabbed Spike and pulled him closer.
“Such talent should be preserved for eternity, my love. You hold her down and I’ll turn her.”
“Dru … are you sure about this? She’s very … ordinary.” Upon seeing Dru’s glare he quickly corrected his statement. “Apart from her singing, of course.”
“I’m sure. Bring her to me.” Drusilla clapped twice and Phoebe stopped playing.
Spike held Phoebe’s arms as she screamed and Dru sank her fangs into the woman’s neck. When Drusilla made a cut in her wrist and pressed it against Phoebe’s mouth, Spike was sure he heard the woman muttering something about cannibalism before she passed out from blood loss.
The next night
Drusilla felt stronger after feeding from Phoebe and she was filled with anticipation at her new child’s awakening. Spike paced back and forth, ready to restrain Phoebe at the first sign of any trouble. The whimpering of Phoebe’s first meal was ruining the atmosphere but one sharp glance from the lovers was enough to quieten him down. Phoebe’s eyes snapped open and she felt … awake, aware, connected and strong. She leapt up and looked at her hands.
“What did you guys do to me?”
“You’re one of us now, daughter.” Drusilla spoke as Spike picked up the young man and pushed him toward Phoebe. “Drink and build your strength!”
“Eww!!” Phoebe pushed the man away. “Are you kidding? I’m vegan! Well, except for when I was carrying my brother’s babies – but that was just a few months.”
Spike grabbed the man back and snarled at Phoebe but Dru laid a hand on his arm. “She’ll come round; the hunger will get too much for her.”
Phoebe couldn’t believe this had happened to her. After all the time she spent wondering about why so many people in Sunnydale went missing, she was still stupid enough to follow some strange guy because some crazy chick wanted her to sing to her. Sighing, she picked up her guitar and started to play. The sound that came out was completely different to her usual voice, whatever changes she had gone through had done more than enhance her senses and strength.
“Oh my gosh! I sound like an angel!”
Spike curled his lip. “You sound nothing like that self-loathing wanker that pansies around with the Slayer!”
Phoebe looked Drusilla in the eye. “Thank you! I’ve always dreamed of having a voice that sounds like this and now I do!”
Drusilla raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Yes, but if you don’t eat – you won’t have the energy to sing so sweetly.”
She gestured to the young man who was curled in a ball and rocking back and forth in a corner of the room. Phoebe looked at the man and then back at Drusilla. This new stage in her life had just given her the biggest dilemma she’d ever faced.
She could sing like she always wanted to, on stage being listened to – and enjoyed – by thousands. But to do that, she had to eat not just animal products – but blood! She would have to eat people – which was way worse than eating Joey’s bologna sandwich, but she’d be able to give people joy by singing. So many things ran through Phoebe’s mind but she finally put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“Well, daughter, are you a vampire or a vegan?”
Phoebe stood up straight. “I’m going to see the Slayer.”
She rushed out of the lair, following her nose to get up to the streets above. Spike rolled his eyes and pointed to the open door.
“See! This is why I have no plans to be a Sire – children are so damn ungrateful!”
In a cemetery nearby, Buffy hummed a happy hunting song while twirling her stake in her hand. Hearing footsteps nearby, she stopped and looked around. When Phoebe jumped in front of her she crouched into attack position.
“Stop, I don’t want to fight!” Phoebe held her hands out in front of her. “My name is Phoebe Buffay and I’ve been made a Vampire against my will – I need you to stake me.”
Buffy stood up and frowned. “Why? Most Vampires like being Vampires.”
“I’m VEGAN! I can’t drink blood! All I ask is that you make it ..”
“Okay.” Buffy interrupted and pushed the stake through Phoebe’s chest, making her explode into ash.