DISCLAIMER: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, its publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made for this. No copyright infringement is intended.

TITLE: Behind The Eyes

AUTHOR: Relala

BETA: lady of scarlet

FANDOM STATUS: Fanon

Out of all the dozens of men and women and children who walked the streets that London evening it is him that she chooses, attracted to him not by his exquisite verse but rather by the deeper meaning that so many other people couldn't seem to understand.

She's not a fickle creature, Drusilla, she's not the blubbering idiot in the asylum raving nonsense from behind the bars. She has her reasoning even if she isn't capable of expressing it in words that others would understand.

"There are mutilated baby fishies swimming in my pond, Daddy," she sighs one night, trying to communicate when the wounds on her sanity are still as raw and red as they were on the night that he made them. "They swim, burning in the water."

(Inside of her there's something capable of logical thought, a woman who can be nothing more than a silent ghost inside her own body after what he has done. She presses her intelligence like fleshy palms to the black panes of her eyes and hopes that he will look into her window. But his windows are brown, covered in the dirt of a contaminated soul, and her words inspire no sparks. They have pulled curtains over their souls when it comes to each other and there are no candles to be lit.)

"My heart expands, 'Tis grown a bulge in't," William whispers through tears and sobs as he stumbles down the street, his beautiful words ripped up and his heart just as torn.

(She can see the point when his heart expands with love, the doors of his soul swinging open for the first time to let the river of his emotions flow to words and she can see the bulge--the inkblot on the page--that lets her know that his lady love does not return his affections.)

"And I wonder what possible catastrophe came crashing down from Heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears," Drusilla says, proud of herself for making a proper sentence. She does not realize it should be a question, that if she were normal she would not know anything about this stranger.

(But she isn't normal and no one is ever a stranger when you can read their thoughts. She knows his name, she knows his love of red and green colours and she can read the words to the unwritten poetry on his soul.)

"Nothing," the human William sniffles. "I wish to be alone."

"Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength, his vision, his glory. That--" Dru informs him with an impish fang-filled smile, shaking her head. "And burning baby fish, swimming all around your head."

(The burning baby fish again, the young men and women with thoughts that burn the pools of their minds. He's not so normal either, this William. He's not so very well understood. People misunderstand his meanings, they only hear the words, and he is left crying in the streets for all his trying to communicate.)

"Uh, that-that's quite close enough," he warns Drusilla weakly. He stumbles backwards, his shoes making loud scuffing sounds that echo down the alley. "I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you."

"Don't need a purse," she mocks. She places her delicate hands on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, her fingers fluttering to his temple. "Your wealth lies here and here...in the spirit and imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

"Oh, yes!" William gasps. "Uh, I mean no. I mean, uh–Mother's expecting me."

"I see what you want," Drusilla purrs, hands grasping his shirt collar and moving ever closer until she is so tightly pressed to his chest that she could share his breath had she need of it. "Something glowing and glistening...something...effulgent."

"Effulgent."

(Deep down inside of him Druslilla sees the potential, the burning intelligence and tender love that makes the man who stands before her. Carefully, she presses her hidden self to the panes of her eyes and she watches as William watches her back. His windows are blue, as clear as sky, and her words inspire the poetry of his soul.)

"Do you want it?"

"Oh, yes," William moans. "God, yes!"

THE END

"Reviews are the only payment FanFiction authors receive. Even if it's just a word or two, leaving a review lets me know you've passed this way."