Title: Baby Doll
Author Restive Nature
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.
Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"
Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.
Chapter Eleven
Memory
"Yeah, just a little crazy," she agreed quickly. Angel was about to laugh it off, but something in her expression quieted him. She really believed that she was crazy.
"Did it, I mean, did you start feeling that way from hanging around with Dru?" He knew it was a strange question. Crazy was not contagious like a cold. But it was in that when a person surrounded himself or herself in desperate circumstance, it was bound to rub off.
"A little of that," she admitted. "But it was more. I was depressed, certainly. But like I told Spike, Dru understood me. There were things going on in my life that I was trying to deal with before any of this happened." He got the idea that she was referring to something beyond normal teenage angst. He quickly squashed the urge to ask about it. If she wanted to share with him, she would.
"But just because Dru understood and was crazy, that doesn’t mean you are," he offered reasonably.
"We’re all a little crazy Angel," she pointed out dryly. "The things that shape our lives tend to have a profound effect on us, even if it bothers no one else."
"True," he conceded. "Very true." He paused to let that sink in. "So how did you deal with it?"
"I cried." As simple as that.
*****
Dru found her one evening, as time inexorably marched closer to Christmas. She was happy, as Spike was recovering. At least the Vampiress believed he was. He was certainly throwing fewer things about in his rages. It had been hard for her to be around Spike. Certainly she loved him. But she didn’t know what to do for him, aside from bringing him food. But Dylan, she had bonded with him. Dru saw it and enjoyed the cementing of their unorthodox relationship. When Spike had first realized that he was unable to walk, he and Dylan had reached some kind of truce. And now, the girl was spending a lot of time with him. Dru peeked in occasionally and saw them together. Some times Dylan was encouraging him to exercise his legs. Other times they’d be chatting about various things. Sometimes Dylan was just quietly listening to him recount his glory days. And always, the girl would claim that they were not all behind him.
She had something foreign to Dru. The girl had hope. Dru didn’t understand it, but she knew it when she saw it. There was no reason for Dru to hope. For that was wishing for and waiting for better things. She already had everything she wanted. But for one detail. And from Dylan’s earlier predictions, perhaps she would get that back. So hope was an alien concept. But Dylan still had it. There were other things the girl wanted from her life. But looking at her now, Dru wondered if maybe she’d lost a little of that hope. For even as she closed into the dark corner where the girl was huddled, she could hear the sobs and smell the sharp salty tang of tears.
Dru hunkered down beside Dylan, sitting on her heels and wrapping her arms around her knees. "What’s got my Baby Doll so upset?" she murmured gently.
Dylan’s head shot up.
"Oh Dru," she sniffled, quickly wiping the stray tears away. "It’s nothing."
"It’s something if it made my girl cry," Dru argued quietly. It distressed her a little to see Dylan like this. She had no idea what was wrong. Everything was right in her world. It should have been for Dylan as well.
"Ah, I was just… just thinking about my family," the teen admitted with a slight cringe. But Dru didn’t react. "It’s nothing, really."
"You can tell me," Dru encourage, reaching out to push a strand of hair back. "I’m your family now too." That got a smile.
"Yeah, I guess you kind of are," and in a weird way, Dylan meant it. Dru had become like a strange older sister to her. She and Spike had become friends. The rest of the minions pretty much stayed away from her. Except Dalton of course. Once he’d found out that she loved to read, he’d spent a few evenings with her, expounding over his finds. She hadn’t the heart to tell him that she preferred fantasy novels and romance junk to Latin treatise.
"So?" Dru prompted.
"It’s just," Dylan sighed. She may as well get it all out now. "It’s getting close to Christmas time. I know that doesn’t mean anything to Vampires, but for me, it’s a big deal. My whole family gets together. And we visit and play games. And we have a big turkey dinner together. And we open gifts." She paused for a breath. "And I’m going to miss it this year. My parents are probably out of their minds since I’ve been gone so long. Not knowing whether I’m dead or not." She began to cry again. Dru sank to her bottom and wrapped her arms around the girl.
"Is it a tradition?" she asked slowly. She could still remember the traditions her mortal family had clung to. But that was a different time and way of life. Dylan nodded in her embrace. "Well then," Dru smiled brightly," we’ll just have to make our own traditions!" Dylan’s head shot up, instantly suspicious.
"What?"
Dru unwrapped one arm to bring a perfectly manicured fingertip to her lips. "Shh, it’s a secret." She rose up, then held her hand out to Dylan. The teenager took the proffered hand and rose up as well. At least there was one thing that she couldn’t sulk about anymore. Dru no longer chained her at night. It was one thing to be happy about. Dru led her to Spike’s room. She pushed the door open and pushed her in. "You and Spike have a little visit. Mummy has work to do."
Dylan watched her for a moment as the Vampiress danced gaily away. Then, with a mental shrug, she turned and braced herself for dealing with the second impaired Vampire in her life.
*****
"I had no idea that Dru could be like that," Angel breathed. Astounded. "Dru never thought about other people."
"I know," Dylan mused. "Freaked me out too."
"So what new tradition did she come up with?"
"Baby Doll day."
"You’re kidding?" he wanted to laugh. That sounded just like Dru. Crazy like a fox. Calculating and conniving when she wanted to be. Crazier than a loon all the rest.
"Sadly, I am not kidding."
*****
Dylan stayed with Spike for the rest of the night. He was maudlin as well and it helped her a little to try and cheer him up. She had gotten a few smiles out of him by the time Dru returned for her. They performed the same ritual that they did each night. Dru escorted her to her room, tucked her into bed, then dragged the length of chain to the wall and bolted her in. A quick ‘good night’ and the Vampiress retired to her own bed.
Dylan tried not to, but her thoughts drifted back to what had made her so sad earlier. Right about now, her father would normally be bringing out the Christmas lights. They would sit together, she and her father, trying to untangle them until they finally gave up and went shopping for new ones. Her mother would be baking up a storm of Christmas cookies. And fudge. People loved her mother’s fudge, and she regularly gave it away as gifts. And she always kept some on hand for when friends and relatives came to visit. When Dylan was younger, she always gave her mother ideas to try for her fudge. That began the peanut butter banana fudge tradition.
What Dylan hadn’t told Dru was that it was also her birthday. This morning, as of 9:28 a.m., she was seventeen years old. And ever since she had gotten her mother to try that strange flavor of fudge, her mother lovingly prepared it. It was the one time each year that she was allowed to eat sweets for breakfast. When she was younger, Dylan would gobble it down, enjoying the rare treat. But as she grew older, she learned to savor it, often taking most of it with her to school to sneak a little each class. And then, at the end of the night, to pop the last morsel in her mouth and let it melt as she drifted off to sleep. But there would be no fudge for her today. She fell asleep finally, a track of tears down her cheeks.
When she awoke that evening, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She noticed immediately that Dru had already been to her room and had unlocked her. Dylan methodically rotated the ankle that had been chained for so many hours, allowing the blood to rush back in. She clambered out of the bed and grabbed her toiletries that she’d managed to gather. There was no shower of course, so she made due with very involved sponge baths in the bathroom. She stumbled across the floor, her eyes still heavy and puffy from her earlier crying jag. So she didn’t notice the difference in the atmosphere immediately.
Once she’d freshened up as best she could and changed into her meager clothing, she returned to her room. She threw the bag back on the table there and set her old clothes in the tiny wash pile. She frowned at the pile. The two outfits she had packed, plus the party clothes she’d been dressed in had really seen better days. They were so frayed now it was laughable. She sank down to the bed, wondering what to do now. If she were home, she’d be blowing out candles on her birthday cake, surrounded by family and friends. But all there was here was constant coldness. She shivered, then shivered again. She could feel another crying jag coming on, but there came a knock on the door.
"Come in," she called, her voice thick. To her surprise, Dalton popped his head in.
"You’re awake," he stated obviously, but happily. She nodded. She wasn’t feeling up to pointing that out right now.
"Hi, what did you need?"
"I need you to come with me," he grinned. It was surprising how often she forgot that Dalton was a vampire, what with his glasses and boyish enthusiasm over new old books. So she simply nodded again and rose to her feet. But before she got very far, Dalton produced one of Dru’s black silk strips. Dylan gulped once.
"What’s that for?" she questioned nervously.
"It’s a surprise," Dalton chuckled. She couldn’t believe it. She never heard that sound coming from him. And while she was stunned, he took the opportunity to slip behind her and secure the blindfold. He was surprisingly gentle. Once that was done, he took her hand and carefully led her to the upper level. From what she could tell, they were heading to the main room. There was silence all around her and blackness from the blindfold. She listened intently, but there were no clues offered.
And then, with great yells of ‘surprise’, the blindfold was yanked off. Dylan blinked at the suddenness of the light that caught her eyes. True, it was only candlelight, but there were so many blazing. She blinked again and took in the room. They were in the main room, at the head of the dining table. Dru and Spike were there. Dru looked ecstatic at catching Dylan off guard. Spike looked, well, like his usual sullen self.
The room had undergone an amazing transformation. Along with the candles, someone, probably Dru, had had the table decorated. There was fine china laid out, with crystal wineglasses. A ruby red tablecloth lay underneath with gold edging glinting in the light. Each chair had matching accoutrements. And at one end, ready for serving was a feast of her favorite. Chinese food. Dylan smiled in spite of herself. Maybe it would be a good birthday after all. And then she caught sight of the cake. Her mouth dropped open slightly. She made her way down to the other end of the table. She looked down at the sheet cake.
The cake was a ghastly shade of green frosting. So very near to the color that their tea party cake had ended up that Dylan wanted to laugh. But instead, the frosted writing on top made her cry. ‘For my Baby Doll, on her special day’, it read. She turned back to Dru and gave her a rare hug. Dru simply reveled in it and stroked the girl’s hair.
"Hey now," Spike interrupted. "None of that. Hate it when they cry," he mumbled to himself. Dylan couldn’t help the smile and she drew back to wipe her tears away.
"Thank you Dru," she whispered. The woman nodded, then nudged her to take the seat at the head of the table. The others took their seats, except of course for Spike. He had his own seat wherever he went, what with the wheelchair. The foursome sat down to eat. Dalton poured the wine that Dru had asked him to procure and Dru made a sweet little toast. Dylan, who was used to having a little wine every Christmas under her parents careful supervision, was pleased at this turn of events. As they ate, they talked, and as they talked they began to get silly. Dylan more than the others of course. Vampires were notorious for holding their liquor when they wanted to. But she was unused to drinking more than half a glass. And according to a greatly amused Spike, she drank the good portion of two bottles herself.
It did manage to artificially raise her spirits, until her own happiness took over. It wasn’t the same as a family dinner. But the fact that Dru had gone to such effort for her touched her deeply. And after regretfully cutting into the special cake, she found out that dinner was not Dru’s only surprise. With a mock groan and patting of her still slim stomach, the Vampiress had motioned for Dalton to reveal her other surprise.
With boyish glee, Dalton rose from the table and moved to a shadowy corner of the room. He rolled forward a cart, loaded down with presents. Dylan gaped at them. There were mounds of things. And they were all for her. After a stunned moment, and a swiftly mumbled thank you, Dylan tore into them. She might try to project the image of a mature, self-confident, world-weary teen, but when gifts made their appearance, she was like any other. She reverted into a frenzied nine-year-old. Paper flew as Dru idly commented on whom each gift was from. Dylan noted in passing Spike often rolling his eyes. It was obvious that he was really only doing this to please Dru, but Dylan didn’t care. Dru and Dalton’s enthusiasm more than made up for the lack of his. At least until she came to the last present in the pile.
It was a small box and it rattled. And finally Spike sat up a little straighter, wanting to see her reaction. Dru’s smug smile told Dylan what she needed to know. This was Spike’s gift. And when she opened the box and saw the contents, she laughed. It was full of CD’s. And not just any old music. Spike’s music. During his informal therapy, they’d argued about what was real music. He enjoyed punk, where she enjoyed anything with a pulsing beat. He’d threatened then that he was going to convert her. And she could see now, the concern in his eyes. He really was like a little boy sometimes, searching for approval. For his entire big bad image, he could be adorable. She lifted the cases out, one by one, grinning over the wide selection. But her hands stopped when she came to the last. Pachabel’s Canon. She stared at it, puzzled.
Spike reached for the disc and she handed it over without argument. Dalton hurried and retrieved a CD player without being asked. Spike slipped the disc in and pressed play. Soft piano music began to filter out and Dylan’s mouth formed a little ‘O’. She’d heard this before, only once, when she was a girl. It was her grandfather’s favorite. And she’d never remembered the name of the piece. She’d hummed it once for Spike. He hadn’t commented, but had obviously filed the information away in his mind. With a squeal, she launched herself at the smiling vampire. She even managed to knock him back a good foot, before he could stop the movement of the wheelchair. He didn’t hug her back, but that was okay.
"Thank you Spike, so much," she whispered.
"You’re welcome, pet. Happy birthday," he whispered back. Then he leaned back as she let go of him. "But if you bloody breath a word to anyone, I’ll torture then gut you." Dylan laughed. Typical Spike. And then she turned to Dalton and Dru and thanked them as well. And then she and Dru were off to inspect her bounty.
*****
"How did she know it was your birthday?" Angel asked quickly.
"My diary," she supplied just as fast. Angel nodded.
"So, I’m almost afraid to ask, but what else did she get you?"
"Actually, a lot of great stuff. Like, the camera, for instance," she smiled when he blinked and glanced away. She could almost swear he was blushing. She’d had a lot of fun with that digital camera and still had it in fact. "And there were a bunch of new clothes. Books from Dalton, naturally. And some art stuff so I wouldn’t be bored all the time."
"I wonder where she got it all?" Angel mused.
"Do you really need to ask?" Dylan muttered dryly. And no, he didn’t. Knowing Dru, she’d probably stolen them from unsuspecting victims after she’d drank their blood dry.
"I take it that you liked your gifts?" She nodded. "How did she… no let me guess, your diary?"
"Yup."
Chapter Twelve
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