Disclaimer: see chapter 1

Chapter 4

Luc rented a car, a neat little convertible, to pick Drusilla up from the airport. He did not think that she would be able to get herself into the city alone. Lindsey McDonald had taken control of buying her a plane ticket, and informing the airline that his client had a rare skin disorder meaning she was very sensitive to light. Luc only hoped that Drusilla had listened to the lawyer, and stayed put in her seat during the flight.

He found the flight was on time, and waited in the arrivals lounge for her. Most of the other passengers had come through Customs before Drusilla appeared, dressed in a long black coat over a long red dress, and looking tired.

"Dru!" he called, and she saw him and ran over, leaving her bags on the floor.

"Luc," she said, eyes brimming with tears. He took her in his arms.

"Shh, Dru, what's wrong?"

"I don't like flying," she said, pitifully. "So close to the sun, too close."

"Well, it's night here," he reassured her, going to fetch her valise and small black handbag. "Come on, Dru, and once we've left your things at the hotel, we'll go and find someone to eat."

She brightened up at this idea, and clung to his arm as they headed out to the car. On the road, she cheered up even more, and started singing along tunelessly to the radio, her head back so she could see the stars. Luc glanced at her from time to time, and smiled indulgently.

Madame Orlov was behind the front desk when they reached the hotel, doing some bookwork. She offered them a broad smile. Luc introduced Drusilla as his girlfriend from England, declined a meal, and hurried Drusilla upstairs.

"I don't like that woman," Drusilla complained, as Luc unpacked her bags for her.

"We'll get rid of her when she stops being useful," Luc said.

Drusilla smiled, running red nails through her hair. "Yes, we will."

Luc turned from the wardrobe, and examined his companion. "Drusilla, how are you?"

"Dead, dead, dead," she said, in a singsong tone.

"Apart from that," Luc said, coming to sit next to her on the bed. "You do remember what I told you, about ... about Angelus, and Darla, and Spike?"

"All dead," Drusilla repeated. "All dust."

Luc nodded. "That's right." He moved to the bed, and sat down next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him. "And I plan to avenge them, Dru. Together, you and I will pay the Slayer back."

Drusilla scowled. "I hate the Slayer. Their heads were always full of her." She looked at Luc, in surprise. "But yours isn't. Not like them, not like Daddy and my Spike. They were all confused and everything, but you're not."

"Non," Luc agreed, "I'm not. I just want to kill her."

"Blood and fire," Drusilla sang happily, her mood changing again. "Nails tearing through flesh ... it makes me tingly. Just like Daddy likes." She smiled, and Luc stood up to finish unpacking. She lay back on the bed, her fingers playing with something invisible in the air.

Luc shook his head, and wondered how Drusilla had managed to survive for such a long time. That she was mad, nobody doubted. Angelus had often described, with glee, the protracted period in which he had stalked, tormented, tortured and finally slaughtered Drusilla and her family. The first time Luc had heard the story, he had not really believed his sire's claims. Then, the story was corroborated by Darla, and even Drusilla referred to parts of it. It had raised Angelus even further in Luc's esteem (if that were possible) and had made him more wary of Drusilla's mood changes.

Nevertheless, when Spike and Drusilla had been in Chicago in the thirties, Luc had enjoyed her company. Very intimate company, on occasion. If he was honest with himself, he thought now as he smoothed the folds of a lace nightdress, he was rather hoping for similar company in Paris.

He closed the wardrobe door. "Ready to go and eat, Dru?"

She licked her lips. "Mmm, yes. Can I have a girl?"

"You can have whoever you like," Luc said, offering her his arm. She grinned, and took it, and they set out.

On the streets, Drusilla set her heart on a small blonde girl in a miniskirt who clearly reminded her of the Slayer. Luc decided that he would be perfectly content with her male companion, and so they began to trail the couple. Down one street, across a road, down another, and then their quarry took a left and headed down a side street, towards a blinking sign in neon magenta. Luc and Drusilla quickened their pace, and caught the couple up before they entered the seedy bar the sign was advertising.

"Excusez-moi," Luc said, politely. "Nous sommes perdus - vous pouvez nous aider, s'il-vous plait*?"

The man turned, annoyed at being interrupted. "Non," he said shortly. Luc grinned at him.

"Oh well," he said. "Dru, bon appetit!"

Dru laughed, and let her true face show. The girl screamed and tried to run, but the vampire had her, and bit. The girl's partner was frozen to the spot in horror, and only started to struggle when Luc caught him by the neck.

They left the bodies behind some dustbins, and strolled back to the hotel together, Dru humming a song to herself. Luc smiled fondly at her, remembering.

* * *

London, 1883

He was in the library, curtains drawn against the day, when she came in. She was cradling one of her dolls in her arms, and was still wearing a nightgown covered by a thin robe.

Luc looked up, and watched as she settled down on the floor and began to pull the hair out of the doll's head, fibre by fibre. He had been unsettled by her presence when he arrived the previous night. Somehow he had not expected Angelus to have sired another childe, even though they had been apart some fifty years. And that the childe was this girl with a child's mind and the body of a sensual woman ... Luc found himself confused and conflicted.

Drusilla looked up from her doll, and said something in English that included the word "brother". Luc wished his English was better, and contented himself with smiling at her.

From the doorway, there came a laugh. "She's saying that she's pleased to have a new brother," Angelus said in French. "I killed her last one. He screamed most satisfactorily."

"Oh."

Angelus moved further into the room, and Luc looked up at him. His sire looked sleek and well fed, his hair tied back with a ribbon. If the clothes had not changed, Luc would have sworn they were back in Paris.

"You're not so pleased, are you, boy?" Angelus asked.

"It's not that ... not exactly," Luc said, hesitant.

Angelus laughed again, and went to stroke Drusilla's dark hair. She arched her neck backwards into the caress. "You're jealous. Don't be. You're both important, in your different ways."

"My Daddy," Drusilla put in, twisting and standing to kiss her sire lasciviously on the lips. Luc looked away. Angelus returned the kiss, and then glanced over his shoulder at Luc.

"What are you staring at, Luc? Leave us."

Luc nodded, and picking up his book left the room. He could not see himself ever growing to like his new "sister".

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* "Excuse me [...] We're lost, can you help us please?"