Disclaimer: Okay, once again, I own nothing. BtVS and all related places and characters belong to that god Joss Whedon.
Pairing: Drusilla/Angel
Spoilers: Hmm… Maybe season one of Buffy. I think that's it. If you know that Buffy is the slayer and that the Master is dead you're cool.
Summery: What would have season two have been like if Spike had been killed by that slayer during the Boxer Rebellion.
A/N: Okay, I know I have a million stories out right now, but this one just popped into my head and wouldn't go away.
Thunder sounded overhead as rain poured down drenching all of Sunnydale including the cemetery where Buffy Summers, vampire slayer extraordinaire, was patrolling. She squinted against the downpour as she tried to distinguish grave marker from vampire. Luckily for her, the vampires seemed to be staying in lately.
She sighed unhappily and called it a night. Things on the hell mouth were so slow lately that she had only slain 5 vampires in the past week. She had no idea why things were this slow. But she knew that it didn't mean anything good.
Ever since she had smashed the Master's bones, the vampires seemed to be almost non-existent. But Buffy knew all too well that they would be back in full force all too soon. With a last pessimistic thought, she trudged out of the cemetery, a content sigh slipping out as the rain finally slowed to a stop.
As soon as the slayer left the cemetery, a man stepped out of the bushes, a thoughtful look present on his face as he watched her disappear into the night. "Interesting…" He commented as he too left the cemetery. But instead of walking off into the darkness duster billowing behind him, he walked out into the street and climbed into the driver's seat of a 66 Corvette.
"I saw her." He told the woman in the car next to him.
The woman didn't respond. She continued to stare at the window, watching as water slid down the windows of the car. It reminded her of children chasing one another in the spring.
"Wasn't what I expected. I thought she'd be taller or have more muscles." The man continued despite his companion's silence.
"She shall break just as easily as the others." The woman commented, not taking her eyes off the water droplets. "Do you think that faeries live in raindrops?" She asked him.
"Dru." The man complained as he started the car. "Stay with me, Sweetie, okay?"
She nodded slowly and looked over at him for the first time. "My Angel, why did we have to come here? The music beats too loudly and ash falls from the sky." She complained.
"We've discussed this, Dru." Angel began. "The hell mouth is the safest place to keep you until you become well again. As long as we're here, we'll have a slayer to deal with anything that could be a threat to you."
"Will you kill her?" Drusilla asked him hopefully.
Angel sighed and took a hand off the wheel, using it to instead pull her closer to him. "If she tries to hurt you, then yes." He told her, growling softly as he remembered the other slayers.
"Like the first one?" She asked as she buried her face into the damp leather of Angel's jacket.
He sighed. He knew exactly where this conversation was going and what she wanted him to tell her. "Dru, do we have to talk about this?" He asked out of habit. He knew what she would tell him, but he couldn't help but ask her any way.
She pulled away and looked up at him, pouting. "But, Daddy, I want to hear the story. Tell princess the tale." She begged as she began to run her hands over the leather of his jacket.
Again, Angel sighed, but this time it was more in content than anything else. He knew that if he told her the story, she would calm down, which would help him relax as well. "Fine, Dru. A century ago during the Boxer Rebellion, a prince returned home to his family."
Drusilla sighed in content at the familiar tale. She laid her head on Angel's thigh and snuggled close to him as to avoid being hit by the steering wheel.
Angel smiled lovingly down at her a moment before looking back up at the road, and continuing on with his story. "The prince's childer were happy to see him, but his queen knew that something was wrong. One night instead of following his queen into a trap, he followed the princess and her William. When he arrived, he found his princess cowering in a corner watching as the remains of her dear William floated in the wind. She didn't see the slayer coming at her, but the prince did. He slayed the slayer and took the princess away never to see his queen again."
As he finished the story they both already knew by heart, he pulled up to their mansion on Crawford Street. It had been years since they had needed to use it, but he knew no other vampires would dare try to use it as their lair.
He shook his head as he turned off the car. If someone had told him a century ago that he would be ensouled by a group of gypsies and then run off with Drusilla, he would have called them crazy and then eaten them. But here he was, driving an ill Drusilla to a hell mouth and telling her fairy tales to appease her. Angel nearly laughed aloud, but one look at Drusilla's sleeping form stopped him immediately. Knowing better than to wake her, he slowly climbed out of the car, gently laying Drusilla's head on the seat as he moved.
Angel ran around to the other side of the car and slowly lifted her out, cradling her in his arms. She mewled contently mumbling something about daisies into the crook of his neck. As he closed the doors to the car, a heavy frown appeared upon his face. Drusilla had lost more weight. He didn't like to think about what would happen if she lost any more weight. Angel tried to shake the thoughts out of his head as he looked up at the mansion before them.
"Home Sweet Home."
