Decernere, Prologue: Drusilla

Author: Batdz Angel (0/)

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of its characters. They are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. This is just a way to honor them.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Spuffy. Mentions of Tara/Willow, Anya/Xander, Spike/Dru, Dru/Angel, and Angel/Buffy.

Summary: After Spike's death at the hands of Glory, Buffy, Angel, and their friends find themselves learning about vampires and slayers. And the reason an insane vampiress chose a quiet, shy poet for her Childe.

Season: Alternate Season Five ending/Season Six.

Author's Note: For some reason, Drusilla started talking when I was writing a completely different story. So, here's the result of a moment that was supposed to be a fluffy Spuffy ficlet but wound up being something else entirely.


She turns to watch him walk away, smells the tears and purrs as her Daddy says to Grandmother, "You think she'll find a good one?" and she thinks to herself as she moves forward that she has found her knight. The bravest one of all and brightest one that shines.

She follows him down to the alley and watches as he weeps. She tilts her head and purrs, "And I wonder..."

His head lifts up and she sees a pair of brilliant blue eyes that glow with potential.

"What possible catastrophe came crashing," she asks as she sways before him. "Down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?"

He swallows and looks away from her. "Nothing. I wish to be alone."

She purrs, trails fingers across her neck as she says, "Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength..." She steps forward. "His vision, his glory." She pauses and adds off-handedly, "That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head."

He stares at her with nervousness radiating from his pores and stammers, "That's quite close enough! I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you."

"Don't need a purse," she growls as she lays a hand on his heart, murmuring, "Your wealth lies here..." She touches his brow. "And here. In the spirit and imagination." She smiles at the awe in his eyes. "You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

Her knight breathes out a husky, "Oh, yes. I mean, no. I mean, mother's expecting me..."

She pulls at his collar, baring his throat and purrs at the lovely skin and blood pumping beneath. He is meant for great things, she can taste it in the air. She looks at him, into his eyes and says, "I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something..."

A flash. A golden girl that gleams...

"Effulgent."

As she sinks her fangs into him, she can see it all: the love, the devotion he will give her, the utter adoration that he will shower her with. And she sees the golden girl, glistening around her Daddy who runs away, too frightened to be near the glimmering girl...

She sees his hatred, his hope she will come to him and she sees his body, broken and bleeding...

She sees it all, how the King of Cups expects a picnic...

But it is not his birthday quite yet.

End Prologue.