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August 31, 1880

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This story is No. 31 in the series "Thirty-One Days Hath Even More Torments For Spike". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Over many years, a certain vampire became hilariously involved in a good many preposterous (and painful) events during the month of August. Believe it or not, there’s an actual reason as to why things like these keep happening to Spike.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > General(Current Donor)ManchesterFR1512,4090561031 Aug 1331 Aug 13Yes
Disclaimer: I own nothing. To avoid spoilers, a further disclaimer is at the end of this story.



Following the faint sounds of sobbing, Drusilla eventually drifted towards a side lane where she found there the young man who’d encountered her, Angelus, and Darla a mere few minutes ago back at the foggy London docks. After bumping into the trio of vampires who’d just disembarked from their ship, this distracted gentleman with actual tears in his eyes had then rushed away, all while showing off clear signs he was preoccupied with nothing but his own troubles. The impolite pedestrian’s misfortunes were now about to get even worse, considering how Darla had then spitefully recommended to her grandchilde that Drusilla turn this idiotic youngster into the insane demon’s own personal pet.

A rare expression of shared astonishment had crossed the faces of the two older vampires when Drusilla placidly nodded in instant compliance to this vindictive proposal. Next, the would-be nun strolled off by herself in languid pursuit of tonight’s latest prey.

Gaping after Drusilla’s departing back, Angelus soon glanced at Darla at his side also staring in puzzlement towards the youngest of their trio already well away from the remaining demons. His sire met the undead Irishman’s gaze, to then give a bemused shrug of her shoulders before Darla dryly commented, “It appears our small group will soon increase, dear Angelus. Perhaps when Drusilla rejoins us with her latest toy, we’ll get a reasonably coherent explanation as to why she did this.”

A very displeased Angelus grumbled, “I never thought she’d really act upon your suggestion! If she does it anyway, that little shite who was here better learn his place among us very quickly. I don’t think he’ll be worth it, honestly. You saw him yourself; just another brainless human fool frightened of his own shadow. Just what kind of demon is he going to be anyway, acting so cravenly like that?”

Darla promptly put on her lips a malicious little smirk at seeing the perfect chance to further tweak Angelus’ irritation. “Why, darling, this should instead be a delightful cause for celebration, especially for you. However it turns out, the main thing is that in a little while you’ll be a proud grandpapa, and it only took you no more than a meager hundred and fifty-three years for this!”

The sudden scowl of appalled fury appearing upon Angelus’ visage caused Darla to break into gleeful laughter. This unholy mirth continued even when Angelus roughly grabbed Darla’s arm and yanked her along as he stomped down the London road.

Several blocks away, Drusilla stood by the mouth of the side lane, watching with growing curiosity at how the disconsolate young man she’d surreptitiously hunted after was pacing back and forth between the two brick walls of the narrow passageway. His back turned to her throughout it all, this well-dressed fellow was giving an incensed thump with a gloved fist to whatever wall he came near in his constant strides to and fro. During the latest example of such an odd action, a closely-observing Drusilla caught a glimpse of his tear-stained face.

Tilting her head slightly to the side to listen to something which none but she could take heed, Drusilla heard the stars singing to her, that this was the one she’d been searching for ages. The imaginary music wafting through the damaged mind of the mad vampiress capable of mentally scanning through time swelled in triumph...only to be undercut by a most bizarre buzzing noise.

Drusilla’s entire body flinched in genuine astonishment at something she’d never experienced before, and wouldn’t do so again until nearly a century afterwards in the real world. At that future occasion, the undead woman was serenaded then by a record playing the song “Lovely Rita”, from the album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles featuring for side-splitting comedic effect the humble musical instrument known as the kazoo.

Except over eight decades earlier, a near-deafened Drusilla got this foreknowledge at maximum volume from a thousand illusory kazoos played at full blast--

“Are you all right, miss?”

That alarmed query brought Drusilla’s attention back from where she’d been staring blankly ahead over the shoulder of the flustered young man a few feet away apprehensively gazing in turn at her. The woman in white blinked at this show of concern so rare in her unlife, but she then collected herself sufficiently to give a haughty nod indicating her polite appreciation of this courtesy.

Opening her mouth to further express her thanks, Drusilla instead then said, “We’re sorry to bother you at such a time like this, Mrs. Twice. We would have come earlier, but your husband wasn’t dead yet.”

There was a sudden pause in the lane as the two individuals there took an incredulous opportunity to consider together what one of them had just let escape from between her lips. Even Drusilla, who was habitually used to saying whatever crossed her fractured mind, couldn’t help but wonder where that had come from tonight. She actually tried to squint down at her mouth which lately produced such an odd comment.

As for the other person there, he was giving his newfound companion a definitely baffled look. This soon changed into actual wariness, especially at seeing how the lady over there was engaged now in contorting her beautiful face in such a way to push out her chin while futilely shifting her head back and forth catch sight of that normally unnoticed body part.

An uncomfortable realization then struck William, as the young man in the side lane was known to his mother and what few friends he had, which wasn’t all that many. This unusual woman just a step away and now tugging into view her lower lip with two pinched fingers to give this a downwards mistrustful glance must unfortunately be some poor deranged soul on the loose from her guardians. Casting a worried stare around at their vicinity, William couldn’t find anyone who might be looking for this escaped lunatic with the most remarkable eyes--

Those same eyes were now gazing right into William’s own orbs from a mere few inches. They seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, so much that he was drowning in them. A sympathetic feminine voice began to croon, “Oh, so, so sad! I sense the work of some spiteful lass who cruelly spurned your feelings… Speak, I command you!”

A transfixed William couldn’t do anything else. He stuttered, “Her…her name was Cecily. I thought we would be together forever--”

“It’s the same old story. Boy finds girl, boy loses girl, girl finds boy, boy forgets girl, boy remembers girl, girl dies in a tragic blimp accident over the Orange Bowl on New Year’s Day.”

Not even the most expert hypnotic compulsion stood a chance against that.

Abruptly shocked by sheer disbelief over what he’d heard to then be once more in possession of most of his wits, William now weakly reacted “…what?!

Standing close enough so that he should have felt her warm breath against his face, the woman right next to William was herself looking truly disconcerted over what she’d just uttered. This swiftly changed into real suspicion directed towards the young gentleman, leading to her grabbing his chin by fingers much stronger than he’d have ever guessed to then hold him stock-still while she intimately peered at her latest victim, nearly nose to nose with the callow youth.

In a no-nonsense tone far different from her recent coaxing, Drusilla snapped, “There’s got to be more! Remember everything, you little brat! Somebody’s sneaking into my thoughts, and only Miss Edith has permission to visit at any time for tea and biscuits! Tell me what you know, all of it!”

The side lane became quiet once again, with two people pressed up close to each other. Soon enough, a man’s voice whispered, “Mummy wanted to cheer me up…she took me to the opera tonight…”

“Oh yes, my dear. The opera is astonishing. The music is fraught with love, hate, sensuality, and unbridled passion…all the things in my life that I’ve managed to suppress-- Eeeeeee! Hold on, that was close! Go back there, and concentrate!”

After going from shocked fury to an intent riffling through this young twit’s memories in less than a split second after saying yet again another unexpected comment, Drusilla was sure now she’d find the meddler giving her so much trouble. Using a seer’s skills, the vampires went deeper and deeper into William’s mind. Until, without any warning at all, a startled Drusilla felt her spirit materialize inside a surprising scene much more different than this peaceful side lane.



At a private opera box, the two spectators having reserved this spot for tonight now sat in mutual shock due to the current intruder among their company, who’d just angrily stormed into their presence. William didn’t dare to take his gaze away to see how Mummy was bearing up under such a discourteous imposition. How had things ever come to this? Just a moment ago, he’d been trying to get over the rejection of his marriage proposal to Cecily by reciting several of his latest works for the only woman who truly understood him.

Now, William shrank back in his seat from the imperious finger pointed at him. That digit belonged to a very irate foreign aristocrat dressed in the most formal of clothing who now cuttingly lectured him in a thick Balkans accent, “In my adjacent box, I had to listen to that utter drivel you attempted to pass off as poetry until I couldn’t take it anymore! As punishment for my suffering, you deserve nothing less than the family curse of the Pârâu-Tepes, which will repeat itself every anniversary of this month for as long as the world shall exist! No matter where you go or what you may do during the Augusts to come, your existence shall be arbitrarily afflicted at least once then with the most absurd, excruciating, and ludicrous experiences possible, all of them matching your horrible attempts at verse!”

With those last words, the stranger to England proudly drew himself up with his mature (yet somehow silly) features utterly serious, cast a cold eye at where an intangible Drusilla was watching, and sneered into her direction, “That goes for the ghost over there too, you impolite eavesdropper!”

With a most regal wave of his hand, the door to the opera box swung open on its own, and the white-haired aristocrat swept out of there, his de rigueur cape dramatically fluttering after him. A second later, again without anyone touching this, the door slammed shut…onto the edge of the cloak. Outside in the corridor, there came a dreadful ripping sound, the heavy thud of a yanked-back body landing painfully upon their ass onto the floor, and a final resigned, “Oh, futu-i.”



Drusilla dazedly shook a whirling head, to next find herself out of the mental scene which she'd witnessed of the bizarre confrontation at the opera just hours ago. She stared around at the London side lane where the vampiress had now regained her senses (or at least as far as the madwoman could ever do so). Her attention was then caught by the youth she’d impulsively decided to sire tonight, who was himself gazing blankly ahead. A dubious Drusilla regarded this still-mesmerized boy for a few moments.

That had been most...peculiar. Perhaps she should mention this to Mummy and Daddy when they met each other later on--

Oh.

The vampiress closed her eyes and began to sway in place, listening closely to what the stars were now singing in her head. They were counseling nothing less than absolute silence over the events of the last few minutes, that what she and William had just undergone together was given for none else to ever know. Well, aside from Miss Edith, of course. This absolute darling quite enjoyed keeping secrets, bless her dear little heart.

Drusilla, however, was instructed by her inner voices to let all the memories of the last few minutes eventually slip away into total forgetfulness. She'd obey, naturally. As for sweet, sweet William -- it wouldn't be all that difficult to do a little tampering with his own recollections so that he would later on remember tonight's experience as entirely different from how Drusilla actually turned him into one of their small family. For some odd reason, the stars were remarkably insistent that things be done exactly that way.

Forgetting herself just this once, Drusilla gave into her sudden curiosity and she meekly begged for a reason from the ordinarily aloof overseers of destinies, all having to do with “Why?”

A few seconds later after receiving an actual answer, the vampiress delightedly giggled like the young girl she'd once been a long time ago. Who would ever guess that the stars above liked the occasional bit of low humour and farce? From the impressions she was getting, this lad about to have her teeth sunk deep into his throat was indeed going to provide a great deal of entertainment for the Fates during his next stage of existence as a blood-drinking monster.

Her beautiful face alight with genuine amusement, Drusilla bestowed a dazzling smile upon the unaware William. It was really far preferable for him that he'd never know about his new career as the universe's occasional target of supremely mirthful humiliations.

Well, best be getting on with it, Drusilla mentally smirked. She blinked in additional pleasure at what'd just been introduced into her head. Oh, yes, that was decidedly fitting. Shifting into her demon visage, Drusilla stepped towards William-the-human-for-the-next-two-minutes, all while intoning the proper words for this exact occasion.

Through the darkness of the side alley, a classic comedy phrase from the future drifted out into the late 19th century London air: “This is Frank Drebin, Police Squad. Throw down your guns, and come on out with your hands up. Or come on out, then throw down your guns, whichever way you wanna do it. Just remember the two key elements here: one, guns to be thrown down; two, come on out!”



Further disclaimer: All Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters and Police Squad/Naked Gun/Dracula: Dead And Loving It characters and dialogue are the property of their original owners.

Leslie Nielsen, we all miss you. Good luck with your latest gig, cracking up God.

The End

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