Angel dropped down into the pit, smiling as he picked his way over the sleeping bodies of Buffy and her bugger friends. Nestled between Giles' clenched fist and a wad of mud was the moldy little stone he'd been waiting for for the past three years. He could hear Drucilla humming a little tune as she waited for him to come back up; he wished she would just shut up so he could get on with business. He didn't want to admit it but he was nervous, would it really be this easy? All this time he, Spike, and Drucilla had wasted fighting and killing to gain power…and they could have just avoided all of it with some little rock.
"Angel…my my my Angel…" Drucilla peeked her head over the hole and smiled down at him wickedly, purring in that sweet little way she had. "I'm hungry...and look at this feast." She gestured with an excited twist of her hand toward the crumpled slayer and then clapped her hands; it was sick how much of a child she really was.
"No Dru, No. We came for the rock, so we leave with the rock. I'll pick you up a nice little toddler on the way back home, yes?" He was trying to persuade her and avoid one of her tantrums, he wasn't positive how long the sleeping charm would last and they needed to get out of their as fast as possible. The sun would be rising soon.
Drucilla tumbled into the ditch, flinging her whole body unto the ground in a fit of rage and sobs. "Why…what's with this little…china doll of yours? She must taste like cinnamon…" She dug her nails into the dirt and smashed it into her hair, ruining those perfect curls Angel had rolled in this morning. A few more seconds of dust and moans and she had straightened herself up, picking the leaves and twigs off of her gown.
"Darling, do you have the rope? I'll let you tie them up alright; you can make her wrists bleed love." Angel sighed, glad that this little rage had been only temporary. He slipped the stone into his pocket and hoisted himself out unto the moist ground of the graveyard, watching as Dru spun braids of rope around all of them.
The moon was beginning to shift behind the clouds, casting dark shadows over him and giving him that warm and safe feeling he usually had when he knew that the sun would give them a little more time. It might have been a bad decision, but he was tired of waiting so he began to walk a few feet away from where Drucilla was. He strummed his fingers over the gravestones, not pausing to read them, only to admire the way the bodies beneath them could rest so peacefully.
His mind was wandering, passed those evil thoughts of world domination and blood lust to another section of his conscience. Where would he go when he past…if he ever did? He assumed Hell, that eternal damnation the preachers all swore the undead would go to. Maybe it didn't have to be that way…
"Angel!"
Twigs were breaking and leaves were being tossed with the footsteps of one very confused red head. Willow was running toward him, the look on her face showed that she knew something was up. He stopped walking and turned slowly on his heels; a grin was pasted on his lips, allowing two gleaming fangs to slip over his plumped smile.
"Angel what are you doing here!" Anger had been mistaken for confusion, as she had her hands ready out in front of her. "Where's Buffy?" The little witch was determined, and that amused Angel.
He stepped forward, inches away from her. "She's sleeping Will, go see for yourself." With that, he turned again and kept walking through the cemetery; Drucilla might just get her meal; after all, she could handle Will.
Willow ran toward the spot they had been at, keeping alert for the sound of shovels clanking and dirt falling. She had forgotten her jacket back by one of the headstones, so she had walked back to find it. Running into Angel could only mean trouble…or even death. Her breathing became hard as she made her way back, fear taking over her body and seizing the air inside her chest. Suddenly she could hear something, and she paused a moment to see exactly what it was.
"It's raining…it's pouring…the old man is snoring…he went to bed and hit his head. And never woke up in the morning." A cackle followed the little tune.
"Drucilla…" Willow knew that sick sound and she slowed to a walk as she reached the hole. Getting down on her knees, she crawled the last few paces and leaned over to get a better look at exactly what was being done.
Drucilla was kneeling over Buffy, pulling a thick white rope tighter and tighter on her friend's, now blue, wrist. Blood began to seep out over Dru's fingers, spouting from Buffy's skin. The vampire was about to lean down and taste some of the liquid, when a few rocks stumbled down next to her from where Will was crouching.
"I'll get you my pretty..." Drucilla snarled, her violet lips curling almost up to her cheeks; she sure thought she was brilliant. She sprung out of the hole, landing next to Willow, with a smile that matched Angel's. Her hand flew up to Will's cheek and a single filed fingernail slashed at the flesh there, drawing a thin bubble of blood that dripped half way down her face. Almost as fast, Drucilla licked the little beads of fluid off of her fingertip and pushed Willow to the ground. Holding her down by her chest, Drucilla straddled the witch and leaned in close to her neck. "Will you taste like cinnamon…like peppermint lady bugs…"