Dicslaimer: In case you're confused: they're not mine.
Past.
Colour bloomed, then faded, leaving nothing but glints of indigo and vermilion on the dust that floated though the air. When she closed her eyes, she could still see them, playing across the inside of her eyelids. The tighter she squeezed them shut, the deeper the colours became: a swirl of oceanic blue, the white of altar cloths, golden yellow of cats eyes, a streak of scarlet, the colour of freshly drawn blood.
"What are you doing Dru?"
A deep voice, tinged with amusement. Not commanding an answer, just safe in the knowledge that one will be given. Powerful.
She opened her eyes quickly, so the colour remained in her vision for a split second, making her giggle. Knowing she should answer him now. Before he got angry.
"Nothing Daddy."
"Get ready. We are going out."
Gone. A deadly hunter, light on his feet.
"Will?"
A command in the voice. Knowing that he will not be as readily obeyed.
"Will!"
A hint of things to come. A warning.
"What are you shouting about, Angelus?"
William the Bloody. Half dressed. Ignoring the warning, as usual.
"Get ready."
"Why?"
"Because we're going out."
Said through clenched teeth. More than just a hint of violence now.
"Where?"
Nochulant. Unheeding.
A sudden crash.
Drusilla closed her eyes again and watched the colours dance.