Title: He’s for Drusilla to play with
Fandom: BtVS/AtS sorta. Just a little Angelus, Dru, William
Status: finished - 571 words
Genre: Drusilla/William
Notes: Originally posted February 22nd 2005
Short summary: Angelus POV on Dru and her new toy, R for violent imagery
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The light had finally died away and released them once again. The dim light from the gaslights outside their room created shadows on pale skin and rough linens.
Drusilla’s latest pet still slept like a human, breathing still a habit and curled into the quilts almost childlike. It intrigued him on some level this new human she’d brought amongst them. Only he wasn’t human now was he… No, he just hadn’t shed his old skin yet. Held on to it like a child with its blanket.
He’d let Drusilla have her fun for now. She’d upped her play lately, he’d heard the mewling sounds, the pleads. Knowing Dru, she’d keep playing till eventually she’d tire.
He shifted a little on the chair, inclining his head and this time really looked at the slender body curled on top of the bed. Sandy locks of hair that looked very feminine spread out over the white pillowcase, slender arms that hugged the quilts tight to a lithe pale body. He’d have to admit, his Drusilla may be mad as a hatter but she wanted her things to be beautiful. Beautiful but flawed. Too weak, but also totally devoted to his Dark Goddess. The boy actually brought some relief with him to their little family - he was an excellent distraction for Dru.
Distraction enough to be worth keeping for a while. He had plans for breaking it into it’s new skin. Oh yes he had. He wanted that innocence gone. Just to see what would be left, if there even was anything underneath it or if it’d just end up broken. God knows, Drusilla broke enough toys to leave pieces of them around constantly. If it wasn’t dolls, with the bodies broken but the heads intact, staring up as they littered the floor it was carcasses of things that had once been alive. Puppies, blood spattered, white mixed with colourful in glistening peekaboo’s in matted fur. He’d tried to rid her of the habit of leaving the toys around the house after she was finished with them. Stepping into cold congealing blood was not amusing. But Drusilla had a tendency to forget things, so he had to remind her often. Not that he really minded in the end, she always made the prettiest noises. Her hair the rich black, mixed with the dark blood over her pale pale skin, painting patterns every time she tossed her head, crying out for her Daddy. No, he didn’t mind that part one bit.
It was as if she’d known his thoughts, maybe she did. Mostly she sprouted inane things about the stars and the little things flying around her head that she’d keep swatting after. Crying out that they tormented her. Or it was the stars. But once again she’d look at him with those dark eyes of hers and he’d remember clearly why he’d chosen her in the first place. She had the Gift, the Seeing… too bad it was all tainted by madness. Darla had gotten tired of her more often lately. Maybe she’d known. Maybe her stars and demons had told her she needed a keeper.
Right now she was staring at him from other side of that naked back, her hand caressing the air above naked skin. Black eyes trained on him, pink tongue slowly licking red lips as she leans down toward those golden locks, “Wake up my prince, Daddy wants to play.”
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