Wishes on Her Eyes

D. M. Evans


Pairing: Dru/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Spike and Dru think they've gained themselves a new rich Childe but they let themselves in for more than they bargained for.
A/N: All lyrics are from Coney Island Baby and I don't own them either.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Complete


Part 1: Coney Island, 1927

Every night she comes
To take me out to dreamland
When I'm with her
I'm the richest man in the town
She's a rose, she's a pearl
She the spin on my world
All the stars make their wishes on her eyes


—Coney Island Baby

"Are you sure about this, Dru?" Spike tightened his arms around his moonbeam beauty. They were three years shy of their fiftieth anniversary. Fifty wonderful blood-soaked years. He went to sleep at dawn loving her and woke each night thanking the fates that brought him to her.

His blue eyes swept over her. Dru looked smart in her brand new patent leather shoes and her crazy crossword puzzle stockings that made him want to paint words in the boxes with his tongue. She wore a russet Coco Chanel 'machine aesthetic' dress that shined under the lights with its metallic finish and black trim. A red cloche hat perched on her head with its black ribbon threaded through it like an arrow meaning 'she had pledged her love.'

Women fascinated Spike. Women of his mortal days sent silent messages with their corsages and tussy-mussies; each flower, each bend of a stem meant something to potential suitors and the women around them. Now those messages were sent by their hats. Arrow-straight ribbons for promised women, ribbon in a firm knot to say they were married and flirtatious bows for the single girls. He didn't know why they needed these silent warnings and knew he'd never quite remember it all. It didn't matter. Dru was his and she was more beautiful than Clara Bow. The "It" girl had nothing on his dark princess.

Dru wiggled against him, her eyes on the monumental structure in front of her. "Couldn't wait to get here."

That was true, Spike knew. There was still enough light to make their skin prick when Dru urged him out of the Oriental Hotel. They had cadged the room from a wild young redhead named Annuciata di Gobeo. Ann had money to waste, which she did with abandon. Spike and Dru had hooked up with her in the Harlem nightclubs where they drank and danced the night away. Ann introduced them to cocaine but it burned the insides of Spike's nose so badly he bled. He didn't care for it. Dru had gotten more than slightly out of control and took out a good portion of the Cotton Club hyped up on the stuff.

Ann paid for a room in the Oriental Hotel for a month. Dru was entranced by the opulence. Spike had to admit the hotel reminded him of an English castle but made of wood instead of stone. The expense guaranteed their wait-staff would conform to every wish, which would leave them undisturbed in the daylight hours. And the closet was big enough for him and Dru to tuck in tight like spoons in a drawer if need be. But the curtains were so thick and rich they impeded all light and so far they had slept in the bed like royalty.

Last night Ann died. The Pinkerton detective employed by the hotel was first on the scene and had blamed it on one of her many boyfriends and her drugs. It seemed Ann had a reputation that her idiot fiancé didn't know about. Spike had met said stiff once in the city with Ann's sister, the ridiculously prim Emily. He didn't know what name Emily had been anglicized from nor did he care. That would mean he took an interest in her.

Just so he was not suspected of murder, Spike made sure he was seen making an ass of himself in the hotel's bandstand area. Dru had killed Ann just as the young lady had wanted her to. They'd be waiting for her resurrection. Until then, Dru wanted to play in Coney Island. Spike didn't blame her.

So many meals walking around and all sorts of new and exciting things to do, like the one Dru had led him to, just shouldn't be missed. The Cyclone promised something neither vampire had experienced. Oh, rides of its ilk had been around for nearly as long as they had been together, but Spike and Dru had never found time to try one out. The Cyclone was the newest and supposedly the best. It had only been running two months and in the hot August night it stood like a beacon.

"You're sure?" he asked again. Spike wanted more than anything to ride it but he wanted to give Dru an out.

"I want to soar," she said, her arms fluttering like a bird's.

"And you will. Guess we should stand in queue."

Once in line, Dru let her hands play over the printed silk Sulka shirt Spike wore. He loved the way her hands moved the silk over his chest. It was erotic and he knew she found it so as well. His suit was black as was his fedora. He wore "Oxford Bags" and didn't think he'd ever get used to them. The bagged trousers flared out nearly two feet around his legs and rustled when he walked. His steps could be heard from a good distance. But tonight he wasn't being a predator. He was out for some fun with his lover and he could afford to be fashionable. And fashionable they both were thanks to Ann buying them wonderful wardrobes.

After what seemed like an interminable wait, they were in a car and ready to ride. Spike kissed Dru's cheek as the car started up the incline. Her blue eyes gleamed bright with exhilaration. He felt his own excitement ratcheting up with every jerk of the car as it climbed the first hill. If he breathed, he'd be holding his breath.

The car crested the summit and Spike saw the 85-foot drop. He could have sworn his heart started beating. Clutching her cloche hat to her head, Dru let out a piercing screech as the roller coaster car rocketed downward. Spike was only dimly aware of the screams ripping out of his own throat. As the roller coaster twisted through its figure eights, he and Dru shrieked their joy to the world. It ended all too fast for Spike.

He and Dru stumbled away from the ride, a little weak-kneed. Dru was giggling uncontrollably. Spike grabbed her and kissed her deeply, his tongue caressing the roof of her cool mouth. He stroked a lock of her walnut hair.

"Thank you."

A quizzical look touched her blue eyes. "For what?"

"For letting me live long enough to enjoy… this." He waved his arms to encompass the Cyclone. He might have lived to see it on his own but he'd be old and not able to enjoy it.

"Where would I be without my darling Spike?" she asked and he kissed her again.

"What next, pet?"

"The Wonder Wheel," she demanded.

Spike led her, hand in hand like any other pair of young lovers in the park, to the Ferris wheel. Dru cooed with delight, watching it slowly rotate around while they stood in line to get on. Her enchanted laughter rang through the night as they were lifted back into the sky and as their car slid from outside of the wheel to the inner wheel and back again. They found themselves perched at the top of the Wonder Wheel while it paused for off loading.

He took the advantage for a good snog. His hand played with Dru's exposed knee, rolling the silk stocking under his fingers. She probably had no idea how excited seeing that bare knee made him. After decades of seeing women armored in skirts, petticoats and corsets, the current dress was incredibly erotic. To think, when he was mortal a bared ankle was considered a sin, something not done and now Dru was sitting next to him bare to the knees like all the other women in the park. His lips traveled to her neck as the ride started turning again. Her hand strayed to his lap and the hardness there. She tapped his cheek and pushed him away.

"Bad boy, Spike. We have time for that later. Play now," she scolded.

Spike didn't argue. Dru always made time for him when he wanted her. Sex could wait. The park had different thrills to offer. They had gone from the Wonder Wheel to the Tilt-a-Whirl, which left them both unsteady and nauseated, but in a good way. Spike was sitting Dru down on a park bench, sharing candy floss when someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away from her.

"I should have known you two would be here having fun."

Spike barely restrained himself, keeping his face nice and human. He could feel the cotton candy sticking to his lips and realized he had to look ridiculous. He knew the weak-chinned little man standing before him, fury in his watery grey eyes. Alester Hetherington must have been Ann's father's choice for a husband since Spike could see nothing in this man that would have captured Ann's heart. Spike knew her father had made Croesus' fortune from bootlegging and figured he was trying to buy his way into high society by marrying Ann to this cretin. Why he didn't marry Emily, who had accompanied Alester to the park, Spike couldn't fathom. They were perfect for one another. Evidence of that was the way she stood next to him protectively. Of course, Alester could easily hide behind her bulk if he needed to.

"You don't want to be laying hands on me, mate," Spike said, struggling to keep his temper under control.

"You killed my Ann and you're out here, having fun," Alester said, jabbing a finger into Spike's chest.

Spike resisted hurting the man. It would never do to have the police looking for him before Ann woke up and told him where she had hidden the rest of his payment for making her a vampire. "I had nothing to do with Ann's death. Just ask the police. I was near the stage in the bandstand when she was killed. Drusilla was with me," Spike said. Dru had been there for awhile, of course, to give the illusion she was still with him at the time of Ann's death. The police usually dismissed women as suspects which is why it had been decided for Dru do the actual killing.

"The police are fools," Alester said, not backing down.

"The police are right. My Spike wouldn't kill anyone," Dru said, struggling not to laugh.

"Spike. That's not even a proper name. How the police can't see what's in front of them I'll never know. I know you killed my sister and I'm going to do something about it," Emily said, shaking in her out-of-style, long-skirted dress.

"I wouldn't be making threats if I were you," Spike said, flicking a strand of her dark brown hair where it poked out from under her unstylish hat. "And we don't really feel like talking to you, so if you don't mind."

He pulled Dru to her feet and started off down the boardwalk. Alester grabbed his arm, dragging him to a halt. Spike just stared at the pasty hand. "If you don't unhand me, the police will be interested in talking to you," Spike said rather pleasantly. Alester paled and let him go.

When they were a good distance away, heading back to their hotel Spike muttered, "That galls."

"Should have killed them." Dru wrinkled her nose, staring back over her shoulder.

"Can't, love. The police are getting smarter all the time. We don't want to have to go on the run before Ann wakes up and gives us all that nice money," Spike said. "Let him play the tough guy. Once we get paid and collect Ann, all three of us can kill him."

Dru laughed. "I want to kill Emily, too. She said such mean things about me back in the city. I should have taken her eyes out then."

"I know, pet. And you will. I promise. Now let's find us something to eat. I'm feeling peckish."


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