Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. Not making any money off of them. Just playing.

Summary: Drusilla encounters Santa Claus.

Warnings: Death but off scene and not gory.

As She Shouted Out With Glee

"Spike look. It's Santa Claus." Spike looked over at Drusilla. Her eyes were glowing with a childlike amazement. He admired her for a moment before following her gaze to a generic Santa suit, whose wearer's cheerfulness was enough to set Spike's teeth on edge. Spike thought, for a moment, about draining the guy but no telling how Drusilla would react if he killed Santa: could be she'd be perfectly OK with it, clapping her hands with glee; could be she'd punish Spike, abandoning him to his own devices until she got distracted and forgot her anger.

Drusilla started dancing in place, as if filled by an emotion that wouldn't let her be still. "I could take his power," she said slowly, as if she'd just realized she could do something she'd always wanted to do, but also confidently, as if she were sure she would succeed.

"No," Spike replied vehemently. "Don't you dare. I mean it Dru. Do not do it."

"But Spike," she replied, "I could be Santa Claus. Just think of it, slipping down chimneys, little pitter-pattering footsteps into little children's rooms. They'd be oh! so happy to see me."

"Dru," Spike warned but she wasn't listening. She swayed from side to side, her hand flowed before Spike like waves flowing towards the shore, catching Spike before he could even think of turning away.

She gave a quick kiss to his lips and whispered in his ear, "You just be a good boy and wait here for Mummy," and then she was away, away, across the street, the pseudo Santa falling to her feet before Spike could shake himself out of it.

"Oh bugger," he snarled as he dashed over to her. As Drusilla daintily licked blood of the edge of her lips, she placed the Santa hat on Spike, stepped back, and pursed her lips a moment before adjusting it so the hat was slightly askew on Spike's head. He didn't bother taking it off, hoping that her giving it to him meant she hadn't actually done what he thought she'd done.

"What did you do, Dru?"

"I can feel it coursing through me. I can understand the singing of the sweet, sweet birdies now," she replied.

"You were always able to understand birds, pet," Spike said.

Drusilla pouted at him for a moment before smiling a secret smile. Spike waited, hoping against hope but then he heard it, a sound that had been common when he was human, the clopping of hooves on the street. He looked to the ground, sighed, and then titled his head up to see it, the reindeer. Not a cartoony reindeer but solid, flesh and bone, clopping right up to them, well, up to Dru actually. The nose did glow though, which just made it worse. Drusilla pulled an apple out of nowhere and fed it to the reindeer, gazing into it's eyes as if they were communing. Then, before Spike knew what she was doing, Drusilla was riding on the back of the reindeer,which was galloping down the street and then up into the air.

Spike swore under his breath as he started chasing his beloved and the reindeer she'd flown off on. Most people had unconscious objections, blocks, belief systems that prevented them from doing extraordinary things but not Drusilla; not realizing that they were impossible, she just went ahead and did them. Spike hated it. Made her bloody difficult to keep up with.