Chapter 5
Spike pulled over soon after crossing the bridge to the Outer Banks and took out a map. One main road ran from end to end across the Banks. The Banks stretched from North Carolina to South Carolina with a few bridges crossing what was not connected by land. He had no clue where to start, no idea where Willow was. They had not taken the time to ask the loathsome demon exactly which part of the Banks Willow was on. Sighing, he folded the map and turned left, deciding to find a place to stop. Dawn was coming soon, and as much as greeting the sun seemed fine at the minute, Spike did not think it would accomplish much.
"Time t' suit up, Pet," Spike said, pulling into a bed and breakfast. It was the only thing they had come across that even had the semblance of looking like a place to stay. Most everything else looked closed or shut up for the winter.
"I do not enjoy doing this," Illyria said, turning to look at Spike. "It is deplorable to take the form of the shell, beneath me."
"Yeah, well, 'member what happened last time you didn't? Don't fancy runnin' again and havin' to stay the day in the car."
"I did not mind it."
"Wasn't you that was gettin' your nose singed each time you bloody well moved," Spike said, unknowingly rubbing his nose, remembering that day.
"Fine, if it will hold your tongue," Illyria said. She closed her eyes and called forth the form of her shell, the blue in her hair, skin, and eyes melting away to the pale cream color of Fred's. Her armor disappeared only to be replaced with the softer cotton of Fred's normal apparel.
The change always shook Spike to his core. He had known that soft face and those brown eyes. He had flirted with that girl, made those pink lips quirk up in a smile and those cheeks blush. He still could not believe she was gone - only to be replaced with a god that liked nothing and sought pleasure in only death and destruction. Illyria and Fred were complete polar opposites - death and life - innocence and corruption. While, as a vampire Spike could appreciate Illyria and her goals in life, the soul within him cried for Fred.
"You miss her," Illyria said in that matter of fact voice that let Spike know that it was the god in control of the skin and not Fred back from the dead. She was aware of the vampire's affection for the shell, no matter how odious she found it. It made her wonder if that was the reason he stayed by her side, because of the shell, the person she was, not the god she had become.
"Yes," Spike said softly. He took his eyes away from the form. The voice belied what his eyes saw. For one minute he wished she would act like Fred, say is name in that soft lilt she had. Nevertheless, he did not ask - could not ask. That would reveal far more then even he was willing to admit, even in his thoughts. Spike reminded himself once again that Fred was dead and gone. She was not coming back, no matter how many times Illyria put on the act.
"Come on then," he said, getting out of the car. It was early in the morning, four am, and he hoped someone would be awake. He hated to think that he might have to spend the day in the car. If that were the case he would have to find a shaded area and buy some more covers. He did not want to wake up to the tip of his nose on fire again.
Walking up to the door, Spike listened to see if he could hear anything within. Two heartbeats, one in the soft slow drumming of sleep and the other awake, though he could not tell where in the house they were. He nodded to Illyria and she knocked on the door, not hard, but enough that if someone was awake, they would hear it.
Spike listened as someone walked down a pair of stairs and stopped in front of the door to turn on the porch light. Both he and Illyria were bathed in a soft yellow light. The door click open and an elderly woman looked out from the screen in nothing more then a housecoat.
"Can I help you?" she asked, squinting at them.
"Um, yeah. Ya'll wouldn't happen to have a place to stay for my friend and I here," Illyria said, smiling brightly to the lady. Her accent was just as Spike remembered it and he tried hard not to look at her and return the smile.
"We have no reservations after November 1st, I'm sorry," the old woman said.
"I know, and I'm sorry to pop in like this, but see, we're visitin' a friend, only she doesn't know we're comin'. We wanted to surprise her."
She smiled big at the old woman, looking contrite and ashamed. Spike saw various emotions cross the woman’s face. They needed a place to stay. He held unneeded breath as she contemplated her decision.
“Nothin’s made yet,” she said, opening the door. Illyria bounced on her heels convincingly and Spike turned away, choosing instead to smile at the kindly woman. “But, you’re more then welcome to come in and stay. Me and Stan aren’t leavin’ for a week or so yet so you’s two are lucky.”
“Thank you so much!” Illyria squealed, beaming a hundred-watt smile to the woman. “I’m Fred, by the way. Should’ve told ya earlier, silly me, and this is Will.”
Trying hard to keep the look of utter surprise from his face, Spike turned and smiled, holding out his hand to the old woman to shake.
“Nice to meet you…,” Spike said, leaving room for the woman to tell them her name.
“Estelle,” she said, shaking both of their hands. “Come on now. Thought you two wanted somewhere to stay.” Estelle held open the screen door, ushering in the both of them, then closed, and locked the door.
“You’ve your pick of rooms, I suppose. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go wake up Stan and let him know you’re here,” She said, walking to the stairs. “He’ll be down in a minute to check you all in.”
“Thanks, ma’am. That’d be great,” Illyria said, clasping her hands behind her back. She watched as Estelle slowly climbed the stairs before turning to Spike.
“I do not wish to be in this form any longer,” Illyria said.
“Makes two of us, Pet,” Spike said. He listened as the old couple bustled around upstairs. During the few minutes it took Illyria to convince the old woman to let them stay, Spike had been sure she would not. Soft voices carried down the hallway moments before Estelle and Stan made their way down. Estelle had donned a pair of slippers, but nothing else had changed. He saw out of the corner of his eyes that Illyria had put on a bright smile. Spike tried to be friendly as well.
“Ya’ll be wantin’ a room?” Stan asked stopping in front of them. He looked to be mid-sixties though the sun had worn him in the face so that there were deep wrinkles set into the skin.
“Yes,” Illyria said, her voice high and chipper. It made Spike sick.
“It’s not often we be gettin’ people this late in the season. But, you’s two lucked out,” Stan said, moving to a make shift desk between the foyer and what looked to be a den. “How long will ya be needin’ a room?”
“Just a few days,” Spike said. “Won’t be stayin’ long.”
Stan looked up at Spike’s short answer, but nodded and said, “What’s the name?”
“Winifred Burkle,” Illyria said before Spike could give his name. She turned and smiled at him and he scowled back.
**********
It did not take them long to get settled in. The older couple had assumed that they were together and had not bothered with two separate rooms, and Illyria, somewhat amused by the look of panic that filtered across Spike’s face, had not set Stan or Estelle straight.
“You’re sleepin’ on the floor tonight for that,” Spike said, tossing the bags on the double bed.
“I do not think so, vampire. I will sleep on the bed, and you shall be the one that lies on the floor. It is…fitting,” Illyria said, slipping back into her true form. She smiled slightly at the scowl on Spike’s face. He did not say anything, and she had not thought he would.
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