Red Poet (AU)

London, 1880

"Well, if you're lonely, Dru, why don't you make yourself a playmate?"

"I could. I could pick the wisest and bravest knight in all the land--and make him mine forever with a kiss," Drusilla babbled before being cut off by a young woman in tears, who bumped into their trio.

"You--watch where you're going!" She sobbed as she bent over to pick up her dropped notebook before picking up her skirts and stumbling on.

"Or you could just take the first drooling idiot that comes along," Darla said looking after her. "You think she'll find a good one?" Angelus inquired, laughing. He slid his arm around Darla's corseted waist and they walked on. Drusilla watched after the crying woman as images flew through her head. "No," Drusilla whispered. "There will be no knights, only red, red days with the lady. I found you."

Drusilla discovered the pretty red head sitting on a bale of hay in a dark alley, shredding several pieces of paper.

"And I wonder...what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this elegant stranger to tears?"

The woman gasped and stood at the entrance of this dark woman.

"Nothing. I wish to be alone," she stuttered, her eyes downcast, hoping this visitor would leave so she could resume crying.

"Oh, I see you. A woman surrounded by fools who cannot see her strength, her vision, her glory. That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head," Drusilla sing-songed as she moved closer to the red head, who nervously backed away.

"That's quite close enough," Willow said, finding her voice. "I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you."

Drusilla smiled enigmatically.

"Don't need a purse. Your wealth lies here...and here," She said, pointing to Willow's heart and head in succession. "In the spirit and...imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

Willow was riveted by this refreshing insight into her character. She had heard wild gossip tales of women who lay with other women but didn't figure to find herself in any situation remotely similar.

"Oh...yes," Willow whispered. "I mean, no. I mean...Mother's expecting me."

Drusilla let her hand skim upwards between the Willow's breasts, trace her collarbone, and stroke her neck before tucking a stray red ringlet back behind her ear.

"I see what you want; something glowing and glistening; something...effulgent."

As Drusilla whispered these words, Willow was nearly beside herself at finally finding someone who understood her.

"Effulgent," Willow breathed in amazement.

"Do you want it?"

Willow had never wanted anything more.

"Oh, yes!" Willow moaned shamelessly. "God, yes."

Drusilla looked down for a moment as her face changed and her fangs descended. Willow watched, more confused than afraid. Drusilla slid one arm around Willow's waist and another around the side of her neck. Pulling Willow toward her, Drusilla buried her fangs in the red head's neck. Willow screamed out in pain but her cries quickly dwindled until they transformed into moans of pleasure as Drusilla ended her human existence, extinguishing it like a match.

--

Words Across His Eyelids (AU)

mid-Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

Drusilla's embrace was strong on this trembling boy. As she sank her fangs lovingly into his neck, she could taste the remains of the love spell in his blood. She licked the enchantment from her lips with distaste and patted her new pet on the head after forcing some of her cold, red blood down his throat.

Her yellow eyes flicked up suddenly as the mob of girls and women stopped in their tracks, confused as to their whereabouts now that the spell had been broken.

You were not supposed to hand this golden crown to him. Tricky words and red candles muddled muddled muddled. This boy is not yours...

Drusilla staggered to her feet and covered her ears to block out the horrid whispering voices.

"It was accidental," she keened with her now-human eyes screwed shut. "My Angel, I didn't mean to hand over your jewels again!" She wailed beseechingly towards the night.

"There, there, Dru," Angelus said in a parody of comfort, coming out from behind a tree. His only regret was not having been able to kill Xander himself. "You created a mess for our sweet, little Slayer. Good girl."

Drusilla calmed and then looked down at Xander curiously, as though she had never seen him before.

"The puppy is too dirty to take home in my arms. He will have to chase his tail before he gets a treat."

Angelus' grin was pure ice as he let Drusilla lead the way back to the mansion, leaving Xander on Buffy's front lawn.

--

Black Locks

Darla used to fix up her hair, brushing it and curling it and pinning it. When William was sired he quickly learned to take Darla's place. Drusilla would smile whenever his hands ran through her hair.

Darla had always aimed for the fanciest, most fashionable and up-to-date styles for Drusilla's shiny locks. Spike was never so preoccupied with current trends and usually styled her hair in pretty yet simple ways to keep it out of her face.

After screeching out of Sunnydale in Spike's DeSoto, a chasm formed between them. Drusilla no longer smiled when he ran his hands through her hair. She could feel his comparison to of her dark hair to the Slayer's blond. So she twisted away from him whenever he reached for her, and her hair was left uncurled and unpinned.

Later, after she had left him, she pulled at her drab hair to try and make it curl and shine again but it still fell in monotone to her shoulders.