by Buffonia

Drusilla awoke to faded moonlight, filtered through the cloth over the window, singing across her pale face. It was a familiar tune that she'd heard while draining a young woman in San Francisco. "And if I died today I'd be the happy phantom..." Dru giggled as the lyrics echoed metallically in her head.

"And I'd go chasing the nuns out in the yard," she sang softly. Giggling again, she fondly recalled the day she died, turned by Angelus in the convent. And how she had, in fact, chased the nuns around the yard. Before draining them dry, of course. She felt surprisingly chipper. How odd that an evil vampire like herself was capable of such giddiness. Singing aloud? Giggling? She was acting rather queer indeed. Much queerer than usual.

Spike rolled over with a groan and nuzzled into her neck. Drusilla stiffened, keenly aware of how unpleasantly her body reacted to her naked lover's affection. Was that disgust? Nausea? She didn't want anything to spoil her happy disposition. Wrinkling her nose, she rolled out from beneath his embrace and stood at the bedside.

Drusilla took a deep vampire-like breath. The idea of having the whole night ahead of her sent a rush of excitement through her silent veins. But once she felt the smooth fabric of her dress rustle against her skin, she whimpered.

The dress was far too pretty, too shiny, too...feminine. In one feline movement, the dress slid over the contours of her figure and gathered in a heap around her ankles. She quickly stepped out of the pretty, shiny, feminine circle and, hooking it on her foot, kicked the satin bundle across the room. It didn't take long for her to find Spike's clothing, folded in a tempting pile at the foot of the bed.

Once she was decked out in the black combat boots, black jeans, and black fitted tee, a wave of relief rolled over her. Much better. She picked up his duster and rummaged through the pockets until she found the desired pack of cigarettes. Lighting one up, she moved to the full length mirror and gave a satisfied smile at the image she imagined would be there. Much, much better.

A whiff of smoke-filled air caused Spike to open his eyes. He sat up and blinked in shock.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Drusilla reached for her favorite doll. She moved to the window and pulled the cloth from its perch, allowing herself a clear view of the night sky. "I'm naming all the stars," she said.

Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Again? Least you found the bleedin' stars this time."

"I've given them all the same name," Dru continued, in an ironically breathy yet high-pitched tone.

"What name is that, luv?" he asked, humoring her.

Slowly, she craned her neck towards him, the girlish smirk on her lips barely hiding uncontrollable glee. "Madonna!"

Scarred brow quirked, lips pursed and confusion glittering in his bright blue eyes, Spike was lost for words. "Right, then," he said, cautiously. "Dru?"

"Mm?"

"You alright, baby?"

"Mm-hm."

"Maybe I should get a nice psychiatrist for you to eat..."

She pouted slightly and shook her head at his offer.

"You sure you don't need anything, pet?"

"Well...Miss Edith has a question," she said, stroking the doll's long, dark hair.

"And what would that be?"

"She wants to know...where William keeps his hair bleach..."

Drusilla glided- er- trudged through the Bronze in her combat boots. Hugged to her chest was a familiar doll, now complete with a blonde, spikey hairdo. Hot-bodied teenagers bustled around her, giving little notice to the bleached, punkish vampiress.

"Miss Edith, mummy wants someone to eat. Can you find us a nice snack?" she asked, her eyes roaming over the dancefloor.

The doll remained silent.

"Come now, don't you see anyone worth a nibble?" Holding Ms. Edith's painted lips to her ear, Drusilla nodded in agreement, her eyes following a brown haired boy.

Xander turned around just in time to see her hand reach out and push him up against the wall. His brow furrowed as he struggled to realize who it was.

"Holy psychic dykes, Batman!" he exclaimed. He squinted in disbelief. "Drusilla?"

Dru smiled as the boy began to quake in fear. Happily, she slipped into game face and lowered her fangs to his neck. An inch from his jugular, she paused and recoiled. Sure, he looked a good enough meal. What with the hot blood pumping through his hard, glistening body. But it just didn't do anything for her anymore. Drusilla turned from him and gave a dejected sigh. She had better feed soon or...

Miss Edith slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. Drusilla's gaze locked on the most beautiful creature she had ever laid eyes on. The girl's tight dress fastened to the curves of her voluptuous body and Drusilla couldn't help but stare in awe.

"Cordelia..." she murmured. Her stomach rumbled softly with hunger and she felt her saliva coating her tongue. Dru had never wanted to eat a girl so badly before in her whole unlife. "Darling beauty..."

She strode, in a masculine way, over to the brunette who was dancing in slow gyrations with a group of adoring girls. They all stopped and stared at Drusilla as she shoved her way towards her target. Dru pressed herself close to Cordelia and gently ran a newly clipped fingernail over the May Queen's cheek.

"Hello Dearie," she said, purring.

Cordelia shot her an incredulous look. "Excuse me, Princess Dyke, what do you think you're doing?"

"The pixies awakened me tonight. Whispered all sorts of things, they did." Drusilla's smile grew mischievous as her hands traveled to Cordelia's ass. "And I woke up feeling all..."

"Gay?" Cordelia squeaked as Dru tightened the grip on her buttocks.

Drusilla nodded eagerly. "Yes. Quite."

"Waking up gay isn't so bad." Cordelia's face softened from fear into a demure smile. "But, trust me, going to bed gay is much more fun."