the (under)worldly escapades of two ex-vampires
They didn't know what they were. Either of them. Spike was an anomaly all on his own and Darla was just there. Both were being drawn into the underworld and both had a pretty good idea why. Centuries upon centuries, between the two of them, of blood on their hands. They had souls now but that didn't make a damn difference because they were running on empty now. There was nothing left inside of them to feed their souls except leftover blood which had long dried up. And no soul, not even the worst of them, would feed off that.
Something that no one knew about the underworld, unless they'd been on a visit or two (and normal beings never returned once they'd seen it -- Spike was special though -- for now) was that it wasn't all death and darkness. If you knew where to go. And even the underworld had bars. No heaven, hell, universe, or dimension could survive without a bar. And when you're in a fucked up version of Hell, you really, really need a drink. More than you've ever needed anything in your entire existence. Except sex. Good sex. In the underworld, sex was different. Not in the general parts and act itself but in the air that hung around after you'd fucked -- it haunted you. The air did. Like you'd sinned and it made you realise that just maybe you really were doomed to eternity in a sexless hell.
But, no matter you percept hell to be, it really wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Unless you thought it would be amazingly fun and exciting in which case you were insane and probably got into heaven just because while you lived in your version of earth, you had incurable mental defects that just fucked you over your whole life.
The underworld was, surprisingly, uneventful and boring. Unless you did the stupid thing and went looking for trouble. Darla and Spike just stayed in the bar. It was a 30s-esque, smokey blues bar that played too much Skip James. Ironically, they favoured the "Devil Got My Woman" side of good ol' Skip. And, considering where they were, it amused Spike to no end.
I'd rather be the devil, to be that woman man. I'd rather be the devil, to be that woman man. Aw, nothin' but the devil, changed my baby's mind. Was nothin' but the devil, changed my baby's mind. I laid down last night, laid down last night. I laid down last night, tried to take my rest. My mind got to ramblin', like a wild geese. From the west, from the west. The woman I love, woman that I loved. Woman I loved, took her from my best friend. But he got lucky, stoled her back again. And he got lucky, stoled her back again.
"D'you remember Skip, Darla? Back in . . . what was it? '68? When we turned the poor old bastard?"
Darla smiled. Reminiscing of the good times gave her some hope. It always had. "It was '69. And yeah, just because Dru always sang this damned song when we went hunting. I never understood why she did that."
"I don't think she understood why."
Drunken giggling always ensued after little bits of conversations like that. That was when Spike realised that he was just a little bit in love with Darla. He'd hated the bitch back in the day, but then again, he hadn't really known her as well as he should have, considering they spent decades together. Sure, they'd shared a few massacres and free virgin blood parties (those things never turned out well) but when you're immortal, decades can pass and you won't think anything of it until it's too late and you're knocking at the devil's door.
Spike used to think that you only really knew a person if you fucked them. Now he knew that was wrong. All you got from fucking somebody here was a ghost haunting a ghost which seemed pretty damn pointless but who could he complain to? It was insane logic in an insane place with no proper ruler that you could actually see or write an angry letter to. Or kill.
But at least there was Darla. And semi-insane love. And fucking even though you got nothing from it except it wasn't as boring as everything else. And it could be quite a conversation starter if Spike ever used it.
"Hey, wanna fuck?"
"Sure, what the hell."
If he was just a little bit crazier, Spike might ponder using it on Darla. If he was just a little bit crazier in this place. Surely that would happen, someday. They'd all be crazier.