TITLE: Tea with Dru
AUTHOR: Ten
RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Wes/Dru
=====================================================================
Three days later, there was a knock on Wesley's door. Lilah, dressed in her usual business attire and a briefcase in her hand, waited not so patiently. She had just about decided this was a dead end and that any more attempts to woo Wesley into Wolfram & Hart could only end in disaster for her. She set down the case, took down her hair and shook it, then unbuttoned her blouse two buttons further than would be proper in an office atmosphere. If he wouldn't respond to a business proposition, perhaps he would respond to a different kind of stimulus. He'd been a man alone for quite some time, according to her sources; he might be just be receptive to her in another way.
The door creaked open.
"Wesley?" Lilah's voice was a bit uncertain.
The door opened fully to reveal a woman with wide-set eyes and deep ebony hair tumbling around her shoulders. She was wearing nothing but a man's white dress shirt, casually thrown on and still unbuttoned so that most of her nude body showed through the front. She leaned on the door frame as her expression changed upon seeing who was at the door.
"What do you want?" The tone in her voice was melodious and completely contradictory to the feral expression on her face.
"Um, I, uh, that is to say," Lilah wasn't sure what to say, a rather unusual circumstance for her. She always had something, usually obnoxious, to say. "Wesley. Could I see Wesley, please?"
Drusilla looked at her flatly. "No."
"No?" Lilah wasn't sure she heard right. "You're saying no, I can't see Wesley?"
"Yes, dearie. In fact, do not bring your corporate seductions and low-cut blouses around here again. My Wesley is not interested in what you are ... " she raised an eyebrow, "... offering."
Lilah stood there transfixed, her mouth hanging open, unsure what to do next.
Drusilla, however, knew exactly what she was doing, as she morphed into her game face. "Do you understand, dearie? You come around here again and things will not go well for you." She snarled protectively and slammed the door in Lilah's face.
As the door closed, a voice came from the bedroom. "Was it the food, Dru?"
"No, luv," she smiled to herself, "it was only a solicitor." Her smile broadened as she joined him in the bedroom once again.
*****************
Five days later Drusilla walked through the doors of the Hyperion with a spring in her step, humming a tune, and swinging a new, lacey bag. She nodded to Fred and Gunn in the lobby and made her way up the stairs without saying a word, not that she really needed to. Her cheshire cat smile said it all.
"Hmmmmm," said Gunn. "Someone's been having a good time." He smiled at Fred as she elbowed him playfully.
"We'd better tell Angel she's back," Fred countered.
"No need," said Gunn, tossing his head in the direction of the upper level. Angel was standing near the top of the stairs, his hands on the rail, watching his childe as she almost skipped up the stairs.
When Dru reached the top, he spoke to her quietly. "Find a new playmate?" He had a soft smile on his face, a bit of a tease to it.
"Mmmmm, yes, Angel. A lovely one. He makes the stars sing to me and the trees paint the sky with all the colors of the rainbow." She had that far-off look again.
Angel's smile broadened. "I'm glad, Dru, you've needed to be out more. But sweetheart, if you're going to be gone this long again, please let me know."
"Ooooooo," a mischevious expression crossed Dru's features. "Daddy isn't cross, is he?"
"No, Dru. Just worried."
She smiled at him again and danced off to her room without another word. Angel thought he caught something of a familiar scent on her, something he couldn't quite place. Before he could question her about it, Cordelia came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her body to his back. "Dru okay?"
"Mmm-hmm. And from that tune she's humming, if memory serves me right, she's in love." He chuckled softly.
"Good," Cordelia nuzzled Angel's neck. "It's time she found someone to suit her. She's been alone too long."
"Speaking of alone ..." Angel turned to face Cordy, still inside her embrace, and kissed her neck softly.
"Mmmmm, yes, alone ... " Cordy responded, her fingers tangling in Angel's hair as she began to back down the hall to their room again, bringing him along with her.
********************
Drusilla awoke midday. She had tossed and turned most of the morning, trying to adjust to sleeping alone again. She missed Wesley. She missed his warmth, his presence, his breath on her neck as she spooned up next to him. She wanted him. Now. Her lower lip pushed out into a pout as she slipped into her dressing gown and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. She knew what she wanted and it wasn't in the refrigerator, but she looked anyway. Packets of blood, more packets of blood, tuna salad, diet soda. "Ewww."
She wandered into the office, Wes's old office, and curled up in the big leather chair. It still smelled of him, and it brought a smile to her lips. Tucking her knees beneath her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs and looked at the extensive collection of books. She could tell by looking at them which were his. It made her feel closer to him.
She closed her eyes and breathed in, searching for his scent among the office furnishings and old texts. It was there all right, and filled her with a sleep comfort. Her head fell dreamily onto her knees, where she fell fast asleep in his chair.
She didn't hear the door open. She didn't sense the presence of someone else in the room or even downstairs. She didn't see the mystic in his flowing robes creep into the office with the tall brunette woman, nor their signals to one another, nor the herbs they'd brought, nor did she hear the quiet incantation. She slept peacefully while the evil bitch monster of Wolfram & Hart and her magical lackey tried to steal her mind away.
**********************
Wes had woken up about midday, tidied up his flat, and decided to run to the market. He was still basking in the glow of the wonderful discovery he had made, the charming woman of warmth and love he'd found in Drusilla. It just didn't seem possible that his life had gone from extraordinary pain to equally extraordinary joy in just these few days. She had come floating into his flat unexpectedly, suspicion in her wake that perhaps Angel had sent her to kill him, and brought love and resolution to much of his then-pitiful life.
He was still aghast that she had been the one to murder his vile and abusive father. And the more they talked and the more they loved the more he realized that many, if not all, of his dreams of late were not dreams at all, but memories. He was reluctant to believe it at first, but each day it seemed to make more sense. The pieces fit together so well, particularly the ones in this life.
He had been alone most of his adult life. Oh, he had had a few infatuations, dated some, even a short-lived relationship or two. But he had never found someone he wanted to spend his life with, someone who seemed to complete him. It occurred to him that perhaps the horrors that he and Drusilla had both endured in their lives and childhoods had been for a reason and had been what ultimately allowed them to find one another. A slight smile crossed his lips as he thought to himself, "Wes, old boy, you are becoming a sentimental old fool, aren't you?" Somehow he knew, though, that as odd as it was for him, a former Watcher, and her, a vampire, it was right. It was balance. It was the world paying them back in joy for some of the horrors which had persecuted them both.
As he loaded his purchases onto the counter, he froze, looking off into nothing as if he could see something happening in the distance. Something felt wrong. Something felt very wrong. The jar of preserves in his hand crashed to the floor as his eyes widened in fear. His voice was but a whisper, but still reflected the torture he suddenly felt.
"Drusilla."
*******************
She woke screaming, the wail and cry coming from deep inside her and resonating throughout the hotel like an alarm. She couldn't stop. She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't move. There was mayhem in her head and she couldn't make it go away.
Angel and Cordy came running down the stairs, sure that they were under some kind of demonic invasion. Finding nothing in the lobby, they moved quickly to the office where Drusilla was still screaming and covering her ears, crunched into a tight little ball in the office chair.
Angel tried to talk to her, but she scarcely heard him, her piercing scream almost deafening now. He turned her face up toward him, shouting at her, "Dru! Dru! Open your eyes! Dru!" She tried, she tried hard to obey him, the sire tone in his voice forcing her to, and she looked up toward him, her mouth still sending a dreadful siren's call throughout the building. Tears were running down her cheeks and fear and anguish reflected in the blue-green of her eyes. Angel couldn't help but be affected, his hands were trembling and he was quickly losing his focus and control. What was wrong? What horrible nightmare was obviously playing out in her head? What could bring such a reaction from her?
Cordy moved around behind her, trying to comfort her in some way, but until she stopped screaming there wasn't much to be done. She tried to move Dru's hands and shot a look to Angel. He was overcome with concern, panic starting to show through.
"Angel!" she yelled over Drusilla's screams, and she pointed to Dru's hands. They were covered with blood. He'd been so distracted by what was going on he hadn't even noticed, hadn't even smelled it.
Angel grabbed her blood-soaked hands and looked at them, Dru's cries beginning to wane slightly from sheer fatigue, her voice raspy and hoarse, but the terror in her eyes still evident. This wasn't her blood. It wasn't even human blood. It was animal blood but it had some kind of demon properties which were overpowering, even to him.
He scooped her up in his arms and bolted up the stairs, Cordelia trailing behind him. They got her into the washroom and began the painstaking process of washing off all the blood, removing her clothes, which had also become stained with it, and trying to calm her down. She was slowly coming back. She wasn't verbal yet, but the screaming had mostly stopped. Cordelia gave her some water, which soothed her parched and damaged throat. Drusilla looked up at her, pain and sorrow radiating off of her like heat on hot pavement in summer.
"I killed him," came the pitiful voice, her eyes turning to Angel, pleading, "I killed him, don't let me kill him, Angel, don't let me ..." Her voice trailed off into a mass of agonized sobs.
It took some time, but between the two of them, she was washed, her bedclothes changed, and she was rapidly falling into an unconscious state of exhaustion. They tucked her into her bed, her eyes still full of fear even as her lids fluttered closed and she fell into a deep, hard sleep.
Angel and Cordy were visibly shaken as they came down the stairs, holding hands tightly. They murmured quietly to one another about what had happened, but they were quite obviously at a loss to explain any of it. What could have caused such a reaction in her? Dru wasn't exactly known for her stability, but she had never reacted like this to anything in the hundred some-odd years Angel had known her. They took the last few stairs in silence as they entered the lobby again. They froze, both looking straight ahead and unmoving. Cordelia was holding her breath, biting her lip, and she squeezed Angel's hand so tightly that it almost broke. Standing next to the blue circular sofa was Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.
-----------------------------------------
TBC
AUTHOR: Ten
RATING: PG13
PAIRING: Wes/Dru
=====================================================================
Three days later, there was a knock on Wesley's door. Lilah, dressed in her usual business attire and a briefcase in her hand, waited not so patiently. She had just about decided this was a dead end and that any more attempts to woo Wesley into Wolfram & Hart could only end in disaster for her. She set down the case, took down her hair and shook it, then unbuttoned her blouse two buttons further than would be proper in an office atmosphere. If he wouldn't respond to a business proposition, perhaps he would respond to a different kind of stimulus. He'd been a man alone for quite some time, according to her sources; he might be just be receptive to her in another way.
The door creaked open.
"Wesley?" Lilah's voice was a bit uncertain.
The door opened fully to reveal a woman with wide-set eyes and deep ebony hair tumbling around her shoulders. She was wearing nothing but a man's white dress shirt, casually thrown on and still unbuttoned so that most of her nude body showed through the front. She leaned on the door frame as her expression changed upon seeing who was at the door.
"What do you want?" The tone in her voice was melodious and completely contradictory to the feral expression on her face.
"Um, I, uh, that is to say," Lilah wasn't sure what to say, a rather unusual circumstance for her. She always had something, usually obnoxious, to say. "Wesley. Could I see Wesley, please?"
Drusilla looked at her flatly. "No."
"No?" Lilah wasn't sure she heard right. "You're saying no, I can't see Wesley?"
"Yes, dearie. In fact, do not bring your corporate seductions and low-cut blouses around here again. My Wesley is not interested in what you are ... " she raised an eyebrow, "... offering."
Lilah stood there transfixed, her mouth hanging open, unsure what to do next.
Drusilla, however, knew exactly what she was doing, as she morphed into her game face. "Do you understand, dearie? You come around here again and things will not go well for you." She snarled protectively and slammed the door in Lilah's face.
As the door closed, a voice came from the bedroom. "Was it the food, Dru?"
"No, luv," she smiled to herself, "it was only a solicitor." Her smile broadened as she joined him in the bedroom once again.
*****************
Five days later Drusilla walked through the doors of the Hyperion with a spring in her step, humming a tune, and swinging a new, lacey bag. She nodded to Fred and Gunn in the lobby and made her way up the stairs without saying a word, not that she really needed to. Her cheshire cat smile said it all.
"Hmmmmm," said Gunn. "Someone's been having a good time." He smiled at Fred as she elbowed him playfully.
"We'd better tell Angel she's back," Fred countered.
"No need," said Gunn, tossing his head in the direction of the upper level. Angel was standing near the top of the stairs, his hands on the rail, watching his childe as she almost skipped up the stairs.
When Dru reached the top, he spoke to her quietly. "Find a new playmate?" He had a soft smile on his face, a bit of a tease to it.
"Mmmmm, yes, Angel. A lovely one. He makes the stars sing to me and the trees paint the sky with all the colors of the rainbow." She had that far-off look again.
Angel's smile broadened. "I'm glad, Dru, you've needed to be out more. But sweetheart, if you're going to be gone this long again, please let me know."
"Ooooooo," a mischevious expression crossed Dru's features. "Daddy isn't cross, is he?"
"No, Dru. Just worried."
She smiled at him again and danced off to her room without another word. Angel thought he caught something of a familiar scent on her, something he couldn't quite place. Before he could question her about it, Cordelia came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her body to his back. "Dru okay?"
"Mmm-hmm. And from that tune she's humming, if memory serves me right, she's in love." He chuckled softly.
"Good," Cordelia nuzzled Angel's neck. "It's time she found someone to suit her. She's been alone too long."
"Speaking of alone ..." Angel turned to face Cordy, still inside her embrace, and kissed her neck softly.
"Mmmmm, yes, alone ... " Cordy responded, her fingers tangling in Angel's hair as she began to back down the hall to their room again, bringing him along with her.
********************
Drusilla awoke midday. She had tossed and turned most of the morning, trying to adjust to sleeping alone again. She missed Wesley. She missed his warmth, his presence, his breath on her neck as she spooned up next to him. She wanted him. Now. Her lower lip pushed out into a pout as she slipped into her dressing gown and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. She knew what she wanted and it wasn't in the refrigerator, but she looked anyway. Packets of blood, more packets of blood, tuna salad, diet soda. "Ewww."
She wandered into the office, Wes's old office, and curled up in the big leather chair. It still smelled of him, and it brought a smile to her lips. Tucking her knees beneath her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs and looked at the extensive collection of books. She could tell by looking at them which were his. It made her feel closer to him.
She closed her eyes and breathed in, searching for his scent among the office furnishings and old texts. It was there all right, and filled her with a sleep comfort. Her head fell dreamily onto her knees, where she fell fast asleep in his chair.
She didn't hear the door open. She didn't sense the presence of someone else in the room or even downstairs. She didn't see the mystic in his flowing robes creep into the office with the tall brunette woman, nor their signals to one another, nor the herbs they'd brought, nor did she hear the quiet incantation. She slept peacefully while the evil bitch monster of Wolfram & Hart and her magical lackey tried to steal her mind away.
**********************
Wes had woken up about midday, tidied up his flat, and decided to run to the market. He was still basking in the glow of the wonderful discovery he had made, the charming woman of warmth and love he'd found in Drusilla. It just didn't seem possible that his life had gone from extraordinary pain to equally extraordinary joy in just these few days. She had come floating into his flat unexpectedly, suspicion in her wake that perhaps Angel had sent her to kill him, and brought love and resolution to much of his then-pitiful life.
He was still aghast that she had been the one to murder his vile and abusive father. And the more they talked and the more they loved the more he realized that many, if not all, of his dreams of late were not dreams at all, but memories. He was reluctant to believe it at first, but each day it seemed to make more sense. The pieces fit together so well, particularly the ones in this life.
He had been alone most of his adult life. Oh, he had had a few infatuations, dated some, even a short-lived relationship or two. But he had never found someone he wanted to spend his life with, someone who seemed to complete him. It occurred to him that perhaps the horrors that he and Drusilla had both endured in their lives and childhoods had been for a reason and had been what ultimately allowed them to find one another. A slight smile crossed his lips as he thought to himself, "Wes, old boy, you are becoming a sentimental old fool, aren't you?" Somehow he knew, though, that as odd as it was for him, a former Watcher, and her, a vampire, it was right. It was balance. It was the world paying them back in joy for some of the horrors which had persecuted them both.
As he loaded his purchases onto the counter, he froze, looking off into nothing as if he could see something happening in the distance. Something felt wrong. Something felt very wrong. The jar of preserves in his hand crashed to the floor as his eyes widened in fear. His voice was but a whisper, but still reflected the torture he suddenly felt.
"Drusilla."
*******************
She woke screaming, the wail and cry coming from deep inside her and resonating throughout the hotel like an alarm. She couldn't stop. She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't move. There was mayhem in her head and she couldn't make it go away.
Angel and Cordy came running down the stairs, sure that they were under some kind of demonic invasion. Finding nothing in the lobby, they moved quickly to the office where Drusilla was still screaming and covering her ears, crunched into a tight little ball in the office chair.
Angel tried to talk to her, but she scarcely heard him, her piercing scream almost deafening now. He turned her face up toward him, shouting at her, "Dru! Dru! Open your eyes! Dru!" She tried, she tried hard to obey him, the sire tone in his voice forcing her to, and she looked up toward him, her mouth still sending a dreadful siren's call throughout the building. Tears were running down her cheeks and fear and anguish reflected in the blue-green of her eyes. Angel couldn't help but be affected, his hands were trembling and he was quickly losing his focus and control. What was wrong? What horrible nightmare was obviously playing out in her head? What could bring such a reaction from her?
Cordy moved around behind her, trying to comfort her in some way, but until she stopped screaming there wasn't much to be done. She tried to move Dru's hands and shot a look to Angel. He was overcome with concern, panic starting to show through.
"Angel!" she yelled over Drusilla's screams, and she pointed to Dru's hands. They were covered with blood. He'd been so distracted by what was going on he hadn't even noticed, hadn't even smelled it.
Angel grabbed her blood-soaked hands and looked at them, Dru's cries beginning to wane slightly from sheer fatigue, her voice raspy and hoarse, but the terror in her eyes still evident. This wasn't her blood. It wasn't even human blood. It was animal blood but it had some kind of demon properties which were overpowering, even to him.
He scooped her up in his arms and bolted up the stairs, Cordelia trailing behind him. They got her into the washroom and began the painstaking process of washing off all the blood, removing her clothes, which had also become stained with it, and trying to calm her down. She was slowly coming back. She wasn't verbal yet, but the screaming had mostly stopped. Cordelia gave her some water, which soothed her parched and damaged throat. Drusilla looked up at her, pain and sorrow radiating off of her like heat on hot pavement in summer.
"I killed him," came the pitiful voice, her eyes turning to Angel, pleading, "I killed him, don't let me kill him, Angel, don't let me ..." Her voice trailed off into a mass of agonized sobs.
It took some time, but between the two of them, she was washed, her bedclothes changed, and she was rapidly falling into an unconscious state of exhaustion. They tucked her into her bed, her eyes still full of fear even as her lids fluttered closed and she fell into a deep, hard sleep.
Angel and Cordy were visibly shaken as they came down the stairs, holding hands tightly. They murmured quietly to one another about what had happened, but they were quite obviously at a loss to explain any of it. What could have caused such a reaction in her? Dru wasn't exactly known for her stability, but she had never reacted like this to anything in the hundred some-odd years Angel had known her. They took the last few stairs in silence as they entered the lobby again. They froze, both looking straight ahead and unmoving. Cordelia was holding her breath, biting her lip, and she squeezed Angel's hand so tightly that it almost broke. Standing next to the blue circular sofa was Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.
-----------------------------------------
TBC