Flowers in Snow

D M Evans

Disclaimer – Not mine. Joss Whedon et al owns all

Pairing – Angelus/Drusilla

Time Line – 1800's, soon after Dru was made

Rating – FRT

Summary – Angelus tries to teach Dru to hunt. She has ideas of her own

Written for dknightshade who wanted, some Dru. Dru/Spike or Dru/Angel, either way is good. For a prompt, 'blood roses'. Hope you don't mind Angelus instead of Angel. Thanks to evillittledog for the beta.

Drusilla watched, mouse-like, from the shadows in the alley as Daddy fed, showing her how. She liked to be with Angelus. Dru didn't like it when Darla tried to teach her things. Darla was all pointed words and hard eyes. Daddy said eventually she would have to listen to Darla because he knew 'damned all' about acting like a proper woman to help lure in prey, but for now, he was in charge of her schooling.

Dru glanced up through the gaslights. A gentle snow had begun to fall. A blanket of white had covered her grave outside the ruined convent but she didn't like to think about that. Drusilla loved the snow, after all. Drusilla didn't want to think bad things about snow. She stuck out her tongue like a bad girl, ignoring Angelus as he fed, ignoring all the things her real father and mother had taught her. She caught snowflakes on her tongue, blowing out big puffs of air because Angelus had told her she should do that from time to time so people wouldn't know she didn't breathe. Dru just liked watching her breath crystallize, proving she was still on this earth.

A voice whispered to her, far more interesting than Angelus' abbreviated lecture. Singing softly to herself, Dru followed those whispers of the stars. No, not the stars, she decided happily as she exited the alley. It was the flowers carried by a flower girl making the most of the early darkness of the winter's night. The flowers chattered while the girl tried to catch the attention of people heading for home. The posies the child carried beckoned to Drusilla. Oh, she had to have this beautiful little girl.

Dru opened her purse and withdrew a coin. "Flower girl," she called softly, waggling the coin, which would be enough to buy the whole basket of sad, cold-wilted flowers.

Delight written over her small features, the girl eagerly trotted over to Drusilla. "Flowers for you, ma'am? They'll brighten up your house," she said brightly, her cheeks red with cold.

Dru watched the shivers dancing through the thin girl. The poor thing was frozen but Dru knew she'd be warm inside. "They'll make me bright like the stars," Dru replied and the girl gave her a puzzled look. The flower girl bleated once as Dru gathered her up, flowers spilling onto the ground. Warm and tasty, just like Drusilla was expecting.

"Dru!" Angelus' sharp tone made Dru glance up from her prey. "What are you doing?"

Dru dropped the girl and scooped up the flowers. "Look Daddy, blood roses."

"They're posies, Dru," he huffed, a hint of anger on his broad face. "I didn't tell you to go hunt on your own."

Still cradling the girl in one arm, Dru reached up and tucked a blood rose behind Angelus' ear. "Roses! They called to me." She glanced at the dead flower girl. "She was so sweet."

Angelus cast a longing look at the child, tearing the flower free. "They always are. Don't get a sweet-tooth, Drusilla. It's not always easy to catch a kid."

"But I like sweet," she pouted.

He just gave her a golden eyed glare then checked the street before taking the child from her. Angelus rolled the corpse into the sewer then held out a hand to Drusilla. "Let's go find someplace warm."

Holding her flowers with one hand, Drusilla put her other tiny hand in Angelus' paw. She sang a lullaby as he led the way. She lived, so to speak, for nights like this and she would dream of her next sweet treat.