Willow was having a whale of a time. Two nearly drunken fratboys had their hands all over her leather clad body as she led them to the alley behind the Plastic Hooters Parlor at the end of the Strip. And here were the boys, whispering sweet nothings in her ears... well, if lewd comments and propositions for outrageous sexual positions could be considered sweet nothings, that is.
Just as Willow led the boys to the end of a large dumpster, she stepped away from them with the promise of the stripshow in the moonlight. But before Willow could even start her dance, another female vampire jumped out of the dumpster and clonked them over the head with a big shovel, knocking them unconscious.
"Nice," Willow grinned. "That's two more, baby. And you didn't crush their skulls this time."
"It's the hands-in-many-places," Tara smirked as she slung the shovel over her shoulder. "I'm the jealous type, sweetie."
"Well, let's get these boyo's into the back of the van," Willow said and dragged both boys along by the feet to toss them in with the rest of the prey. Willow took a moment to rub a finger across one of the boy's headwound and licked the drop from her finger.
"Wow!" Willow licked her lips. "Type 0-negative."
"Lucky!" Tara raved. "Those always taste the best."
"Add in the alcohol and he'll make one hell of a party favor," Willow grinned. "Perfect. So, what do we need for our party?" she told herself while taking out her clipboard and list.
"Sound equipment," Willow read. "That's okay, Veruca is bringing her own. Hm, Karaoke-machine?"
"Freshly stolen," Tara said, motioning past the unconscious human where the machine stood, along with other electronic knick-knacks they had 'liberated' from the store.
"Okay," Willow checked the list. "Knives?"
"Stolen," Tara said, pointing to a rack of kitchen knives hanging next to the machine.
"Dip and pickles?"
Tara grinned wickedly. "We have enough of those at home, sweetie."
Willow chuckled briefly. "Of course, sweetie. Hm, booze?"
Tara motioned to the many bottles rolling around in the back of the van. "We ram-raided the off-license, remember?"
"Check. Do we need more party favors?" Willow frowned at the humans.
"Hmm," Tara bit her lit, scrunching up her nose in the most cutest way Willow had ever seen. "We'll also have that betting pool, better be on the safe side."
"Cool, let's go shopping!" Willow grinned.
"No, too scrawny."
"No, that guy's too fat. High cholesterol, bad for the blood."
"Ew, she's a hooker! Who knows what she has in her blood?"
"What about her?"
"No. Cop. Too much trouble."
"Mobster. They eat too much garlic."
"Snobby picky eater."
"I like my blood pure."
"I just like blood, period."
"You should try some refinement."
"I'm a non judgmental feeder."
"Oh, oh! Look at her! Hm, confident stride, prideful stride. Alright, Tara, you're up."
Tara grinned at her wife. "Stand by with the shovel... I'm going in."
The day of the blood party had finally come. They had decided to make it a costume party, and invite all their friends from Sunnydale. Willow and Tara hadn't made many local friends since they had moved to Las Vegas. Most of the other vampires with young fledglings, like themselves, who were more interested in staking a claim to a hunting grounds than socializing. So, the girls went on the offensive in response.
Willow and Tara, despite not having made any minions, had aggressively claimed a part of the strip and the suburb they lived in as their personal hunting grounds, and zealously defended their turf, which often included viciously slaughtering other vampires who dared to encroach on their terrain, also even seeking out the other vampires in their own territories to 'teach them a lesson'.
The only friend they had made was Tony, another major player in town. Tony was a mobster in a previous life, and as a vampire, continued his racketeering, gambling and vice ring with his vampiric gang. Tony had staked a claim on the other side of the Strip and large parts of the north side of town. He respected Willow and Tara, while the other vampires in town feared them to death. It suited the girls more than fine.
Tara passed the terrified humans, who were gagged and chained to several wooden poles in the living room and moved to Miss Kitty Ferocio in the bedroom. Tara sat down and patted the side of the bad. Immediately, Miss Kitty Ferocio purred at her side, ready to be picked up and petted. But instead of being petted, Miss Kitty found herself put into a plastic travel box.
"Sorry, baby," Tara told the mournful cat. "But Xander is bringing Xena and Gabrielle. It's not safe for you to be running around. We'll make it up to you, baby, I swear. Catnip aplenty for the rest of the week."
After tearfully putting Miss Kitty in a safe place, Tara returned to the living room. The girl's living room was high and broad, so there was plenty of room for the podium. Tara waved at Veruca who was performing a final soundcheck, while she found Willow sitting in front of the TV, watching an old Ren & Stimpy rerun. Tara mused that, even in costume, Willow could never let go of the tight leather, but Tara was the first to admit that Willow looked stunning in her Batgirl costume.
Party-favors, booze and snacks were meticulously placed on and around tables, so Willow was actually relaxing from setting things up for the party.
"What are you supposed to be again?" Willow grinned while clicking away a psychotic Ren to drool at Tara, who was wearing a Star-Spangled Banner bikini, high heels, a thin cloth tied around her waist and a tiara on her head.
"Will," Tara sighed. "Try to remember. I'm Miss America."
"Can't," Willow shrugged.
"What?" Tara narrowed her eyes. "I don't look hot enough?"
"Hotness is not lacking," Willow grinned wickedly at her wife. "You just look too intelligent to be a Miss America. I'm sorry."
"I can be stupid," Tara adopted a faraway look in her eyes and looked around the room with a slacked jaw. "Duuuuuhhhhh. If I, like, win this crown and stuff, I'm, like, gonna promote world peace... and stuff. Mostly stuff... Uh, this is hard, I wanna go shopping. Doy."
"Sorry," Willow shrugged. "But I already know what a crafty, smart and cunning huntress you are, so it's not working."
"Aww," Tara felt her heart melt at the compliment.
Before the argument could go develop into full scale kissage, the doorbell rang. The two girls scrambled towards the door, almost crawling over each other to get to the door first. When the door finally opened, the Master looking down at the two girls on the floor.
"Alright," he blinked and held out a wine bottle filled with blood.
"Sorry, Master," Willow stated meekly and let him in. "This is our home, where we live."
"Well," the Master nodded appreciatively while he walked into the living room. "You two have certainly moved up from your old apartment. I always said Sunnydale'd be too small for you."
"Uhm, Master?" Tara asked carefully. "Didn't you bring a costume? This is a costume party, but you're wearing the same leather suit you always wear."
"Ah," the Master replied and fished a set of goggles from his pocket. Upon unfolding it, it was revealed to be a set of cheap plastic nose-glasses. He put them on and stared at Willow. "I'm Groucho Marx."
"Uhhh, okay..." Willow blinked, while Tara shot her wife a 'don't-even-think-of-insulting-the-Master'-look, which looked remarkably like her 'I'm-not-ready-to-become-a-widow'-look.
While Veruca's powerful voice entertained the many guests that were coming in all the time. The place was filling up with monsters... dressed up as other monsters. Impata the mummy girl was, rather unimaginatively, dressed up like a mummy, while Ms. French had chosen for a more revealing outfit: Elvira, mistress of the Dark. The Master was chatting with Moloch, while Balthazar was, rather ineffectually, trying to limbo. Mayor Wilkins was just explaining the positive effects of non-alcohol based disinfectants to Clem, when the doorbell rang.
"Xander!" Willow yelled and hugged her tuxedo-clad childhood friend.
"Hey, Will," Xander greeted. "My name's James Bond. Not a lot of people know that."
"And you've brought the girls," Willow grinned, when Xena and Gabrielle, two viciously snarling frothing at the mouth Rottweilers on a dual leash entered the house. As soon as the Rottweilers were released, they barked and sped towards the party favors, IE, the shackled humans. Many where the laughs and catcalls when the vicious dogs ripped into one of the males, until a heavy growl from Veruca caused the dogs to back off and return to Xander.
"Hey, I'm not the only one," Xander said, as Spike followed suit.
"Oy," said Spike. "Crocodile Hunter 'ere. Live from the wilds of Las Vegas."
Willow regarded Spike in his khaki shorts and couldn't stop from snickering.
"Oh, come on, don't laugh. Bloody Dru made me wear it," Spike retorted, taking off his jungle hat. "It's her latest obsession."
Strolling in behind Spike like a queen surveying her kingdom, came in Drusilla, dresses as the queen of queens Cleopatra herself, complete with Egyptian make-up.
"Mummy!" Tara squealed and flew into the arms of her Sire. A few moments later, Drusilla was sitting on the couch, while Tara lay on her side, purring while she laid her head on Dru's lap while the elder vampire ran her hand through Tara's long blonde hair.
"Hush, dearie," Drusilla shushed Tara. "Has naughty, naughty Willow been taking good care of my precious Kitten?"
"Very good, mummy," Tara sighed. "But I've been taking care of her too."
"Ah, the moment I saw you, fretting about in the dark with your books with your fearful heart beating in your mortal chest, I knew you would slay your family with much glee and happy cakes," Drusilla giggled. "But today is not your birthday. And I saw naughty, naughty Willow and you together before I even brought you to your new home. Ah, the vision... such delightful sin. I had to poke out Miss Edith's eyes, before she would blush. She would be so embarrassed."
"Thanks for making me into a vampire, mummy. I never would have met Willow otherwise."
'm sittin'... on top... of the world
The Master sang surprisingly on key as he held the microphone on stage, being egged on by the other vampires in the room.
I'm rollin' along. Rollin' alooooong.
Seeing the song was over, Veruca took the stage until another vampire would dare to challenge the Karaoke machine.
Still more guests were arriving and the place was filling up nicely. Willow smiled contently while the empty bottles were tossed about around her head and many screams of victims/party favors reached her eager ears.
Tony 'the Chin', accompanied by two angry looking goons entered the house, greeting the girls with a jovial grin. "Bambino's," he said. "Thank you for inviting mes to yer beautiful home."
"Welcome, Tony," Tara greeted. "Help yourself to some party favors. And mingle! There's so many interesting people here."
"I intend to," Tony grinned.
"Oh, god, it's him," Willow grit her teeth when she spotted a car stopping, Angel's car. A very nervous Angel and a rather dour looking Darla, who literally had to drag him into the house. While Tara shared a hug with Darla, Willow glowered at Angel, causing him to cower slightly.
"And what's this, Puppy?" Willow fumed. "Already you're ruining everybody's fun. Oh, everybody is in costume, except you. Puppy has to be 'special'. And you'd better not be broody, Puppy."
Angel bit his lip. "Darla said going to this party would be good for my self esteem, so please don't bring me down, Willow. Besides, I'm not the only one without a costume on. That Lobster demon over there..."
"That's not a Lobster demon, that's Clem in a lobster suit," Willow yelled. "Even Moloch is in a costume. See, he's dressed as a big robot."
"That's because he IS a big robot," Angel tried.
"Counts as a costume, since he's non-corporeal," Willow huffed and grabbed a yellow post-it, scribbled the word 'dork' on it and pressed it against Angel's shirt. "Here's your costume. Now mingle, try not to ruin everybody's fun and for death's sake, don't try to free our food!"
As Angel took Darla's arm and mingled with the other guests, Tara took her side next to Willow. "My," Tara said. "I don't know what Darla sees in him. She needs to find a nice girl or something."
When I'm killin', yes I know I'm gonna be
While Spike sang his british lungs out in his own violent rendition of 500 miles by the Proclaimers, Drusilla, to whom he was singing, gleefully clapped her hands together like an overactive little girl. As soon as Spike was finished, he was greeting with whistles, applause, the occasional raised lighter and a hug from Drusilla.
"Okay," Willow hit a spoon against a frying pan. "Listen up everybody! This is Las Vegas over there, so it's time to lay your money into our betting pool," she said while Tara carried a chart into the living room. On the chart were numbers and odds. "Alright, all the humans in the rooms are numbered and their numbers correspond with the chart here. So, you can lay in your bets and write your name behind the number of human you think will be the last one to be alive at the end of the night. The demons who guessed the right human will divide the pot at the end of the night. Now, cheating is allowed, so feel free to maim, kill and horribly slaughter at your heart's content. Oh, and we don't accept kittens as currency. If you don't know why, ask Tara, she'll explain it to you with a hot poker to the eyeballs."
There was a rush of demons and vampires to the chart, as they lay in their bets and wrote their names behind the humans they thought would be the last to survive the night.
"Hey!" called out Clem. "Tony and his goons are doing over Angel in the backyard. Somebody has to help him!"
"Oh, this I have to see!" Spike rushed to the backyard.
Near a tree by a river
Sounded the soft melodic voice of Drusilla as she took the stage. She seemed quite taken with the nonsensical lyrics of the song and threw a lot of soul into her performance... which was remarkable because she didn't have any to begin with.
After Drusilla was done and accepted the applause, Willow moved to the backroom, where several demons were having a knife-throwing contest, the target being a door to which a man was tied. A few throws and a final blood-curdling scream later, and another name was striped off the chart by Tara. Things were starting to get exciting.
Angel was walking around, avoiding contact with the more violent demons and oddly hanging out a lot with less vicious demons like Clem. Unbeknownst to him, a great many more post-its were stuck to his back. They read 'kick me', 'I'm bloody stupid', 'ladida, flaming poofter', 'Dru is mine, soul-boy' and 'De-fanged and neutered', all written in the same handwriting.
Soon after Drusilla's song, the party was being led out to their large backyard, where a crude maze made out of timber was located, each wooden wall about six feet high and had tops covered with barbed wire, glass and rusty nails.
"Alright, five carpenters worked a week on creating this maze, and I'm sure you appreciate their fine craft," Willow called to the three randomly chosen humans located in the center of the maze as she spoke to them from the roof of the house, while her guests stood on benches next to the walls to spectate. "You three. If you find the exit of the maze, you're free to go. But remember, only one of you will survive... and you won't be in there alone. Release the hounds!"
Xander gleefully opened the hatch to let Xena and Gabrielle into the maze with the humans. The snarling, fiendish dogs immediately started to hunt for their food, in this case, the three humans looking for the exit of the maze.
"Are you going to tell them there's not an exit to this maze?" Spike whispered as he stood next to Willow.
"Nah," Willow chuckled. "They'll find out soon enough. Say, have you seen Tara? She loves animals, she wouldn't miss me."
"Search me, Red," Spike shrugged while the screams of the victims sliced through the night-sky.
Tom Jones had enjoyed his performance at Ceasar's Palace, like he always did. Tonight was a good night, with many enthusiastic members in the audience, allowing him to mix old songs with newer ones. But now, it was time to go home, or rather, to the airport. He had stepped into the carpark and was just about to unlock his rental car when he heard a nervous voice behind her.
"Uh, h-hi. Mister J-jones? C-could I have your a-autograph, please?"
Turning around, he saw the sweetest girl he had ever seen. She had long blonde hair, wore a long coat and bowed her head nervously. He briefly wondered how she had gotten past security unharmed, because he knew Crusher was hardcore about fans not getting into the parking lot. But glancing over the girl's shoulder, he couldn't see Crusher at all. Why wasn't he at his post?
Tom shrugged and took the CD the girl held in her hand. "Sure, darling, sure. Who do I make it out to?"
"To T-tara and W-willow, please," the girl stammered.
"Alright," Tom said and took a pen from his coat. He put the CD on the roof of his car and wrote on the cover.
"T-thank you," Tara replied.
"Such a polite young woman you are," Tom smiled and turned towards the girl. "Here you are..."
But before he could finish his sentence, he was hit over the head with a shovel and was out cold before he hit the ground.
To Tom, the polite young woman that was Tara was replaced by a weird broad in a bikini and a psychotic expression on her face. And to make matters worse, he was suddenly inside a house filled with all kinds of vampires and weird monsters. This was literally a nightmare come true... Thriller was an impressive music video, but he never expected to be in it.
"Listen to me," Tara snarled as she pointed the crossbow in her hands right at Tom's heart. "Two minutes from now, you are going to sing 'Till' and Veruca will be your backup singer. You do what I say, and you just might make it through this night alive. Give it your everything, Tom. You'll be singing to the love of my life."
"W-whatever you say," Tom replied meekly and stared at the closed curtains. "Is it a tough crowd?"
"Possibly the toughest crowd you've ever played for," grinned Tara, before she gave the crossbow to another women dressed up like Cleopatra. "Mummy," she told the other woman. "If he gets one key wrong, shoot him."
As soon as Tara had moved through the curtains, Tom sidled over to the other woman. "Look," he said. "This woman's crazy, we have to get out of here. I swear, I'll do a good word for you at the police station. Just let me go, alright."
"Hush, pet," the other woman said and pointed the crossbow at Tom. "What's new pussycat? Today is not her birthday, but I can hear the worms calling out to you. They say 'happy family, happy family' and the world runs around the mulberry bush. She's a lady and the lady is hers."
Tom Jones sighed heavily. "Great... Just great."
"Tara, where've you been?" Willow frowned as she took Tara's hands. "I thought for a moment you ran off on me, baby."
Tara smiled mysteriously. "It's time for the slow dance, sweetie," she said when several demons and vampires paired off to prepare for the slow-dance. "I've got a surprise for you..."
The curtains fell, revealing a rather nervous Welsh pop singer getting ready to start his song.
"What the..." Willow blinked. "That's Sir Tom Jones over there! And it looks like he has a serious headwound."
"Sssh," Tara whispered, dragging Willow's attention back to her by guiding her chin with her finger, while resting her other arm on Willow's back. "Just enjoy the music."
You are my reason to live
Tom Jones started out a bit nervously, but was more than adequately supported by Veruca. Though Moloch and Clem slowdancing made quite an impression Willow and Tara only had eyes for each other. Demons and vampires alike took to the mood.
till then I'll worship you.
The person who said soulless vampires couldn't love, had obviously never met Willow and Tara. So much of their love at that moment was conveyed by a glint in the eye, a quirk for the lips, a soft caress. The two vampires flowed together naturally.
till this young world grows old
Willow pulled Tara a little closer to her and then slowly, ever so slowly, craned her neck to one side. It was an invitation for Tara to drink of Willow's blood. For a vampire it was one of the most intimate offerings imaginable, and an expression of ultimate trust. Even though it had a chance of making her look weak in front of the other vampires, Willow didn't care.
Tara took the invitation and slowly probed Willow's neck. She found the spot that made Willow shudder and slowly, carefully, allowed her fangs to slowly break the skin. The blonde vampire shivered violently when she tasted the richness of Willow essence, and drank deeply. The smell of Willow's hair, the softness of her skin, the taste of her blood: Tara was in heaven.
just to have you adore me.
Everybody else was gone. Nothing existed but Willow and Tara... and just maybe Tom Jones and Veruca, somewhere miles away. Tara moved a little closer, allowing Willow to bite and drink from her as well while Tara fed of Willow. And so they drank each other's blood, letting the incredible euphoria take hold of them.
till lovers cease to dream
If any watchers had been present today, Willow and Tara would have been the unliving proof that true love doesn't require a soul.
"Oh, god," Willow held her head as she slowly woke up. "You bastard!"
All around her demons and vampires lay sprawled on the floor and couches, after a full night of heavy-duty drinking and partying. The Master lay snoring on the couch, amongst the empty bottles of Malibu, while Spike and Dru were holding each other while sleeping off a massive hangover. Tara was walking amongst the sleeping demons, avoiding the tiny rays of sunlight that came in through the thick curtains they had hung in front of the windows, often moving a sleeping vampire who was in danger of getting burned by said rays.
"Tara, good morning," Willow said, while the other vampire treated her to a kiss.
"Will," Tara ran her hand through Willow's hair. "Go back to sleep, it's morning."
"What about you?"
"Gotta feed Miss Kitty and make sure none of our friends gets incinerated, sweetie," Tara said. "And I gotta make a start with cleaning up."
"Hey," Willow grinned. "We're snobby american nouveaux riches. That means we don't have to clean up... we'll just hire an illegal mexican maid to clean up after our asses. And when she's done, we can eat her. Isn't America the best country in the world?"
"Heh," Tara giggled. "You made a funny, sweetie."
"I did?" Willow frowned, then grinned when she realized her own pun. "Oh, yeah. Say, who won the pot?"
"Oh, Clem did," Tara said. "Tom Jones was the last survivor. The only survivor, actually. I think he escaped through the bathroom window while we were all getting drunk."
"Just as well," Willow smiled and let Tara snuggled against her. "It was such a wonderful song. You're so amazing, Tara. Hey, what's that screaming?"
Tara carefully peered through a crack in the curtains. "Oh, that's just Xena and Gabrielle tearing the flesh off the mailman's bones. Nothing special."
"Aww, that's so cute," Willow smiled. "Xander really loves his cute little doggies."
"This was the best bloodparty ever," Tara smiled as she snuggled against her wife.
"You made it special," Willow pressed her lips against Tara's. "I love you so much, baby."
"I love you too, sweetie," Tara returned the kiss. "I even love you more than kittens."