Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

The Lady Has A Scar
By Francis
For Twinkledru J.

Willow almost always thought about the past. Her recollections she found always began with the year Buffy Summers walked into the hallowed halls of Sunnydale High School. It seemed before that there was precious little to go back to.

This night her thoughts were swirling around the sixth and second year of Buffy. Because that was what they were, the Buffy Years. At least for her.

The sixth year was the year she lost Tara. It was also the same year she first came to England and to the Watcher's Council after her brief excursion to the dark side of her powers. It was the year she grew the most, she believed, not just as a woman but a being of power. She realized then that she had power over the fate of others beneath her, as well as the consequences of it.

She remembered the sixth year as a vivid nightmare.

The second year was nagging her for days now, ever since the death of her Slayer, Anne. An Asian lass who also shared her bed. That year was the year Spike first showed up, also the same year when Angel went back to his bad self. But the details of all these things were being drowned as she tried to remember Drusilla.

After all it was Drusilla who killed her Slayer.

The vampire's a features slowly swirled in her mind as if they had been brought in by a fog collating to form a vortex. She took a sip from her coffee and continued to thumb through her memory as people passed her sidewalk table. Willow lit a cigarette and put her mind at ease. Suddenly she found that she was beginning to ask herself why she was in New York.

The answer stuck to the roof of her mouth and left a bitter aftertaste after she whispered the word to the cool September air.

Vengeance. She found the word painful as it reminded her constantly of the sixth year. But she had learned her lesson well then, go for a surgical strike.

It was why she had filed a leave of absence from the Council and why she had Xander pick her up drive her to the airport so that he'd see for himself she was headed to the islands. But she had lied to them all. It wasn't the first time an she reckoned it won't be the last if things went well.

She finished her cigarette and ruminated on her cup of coffee as she eyed the dark alley within view of where she sat. She knew who would emerge form there any minute now.

The sun was falling to the earth and darkness slowly overtook the light. Willow took one final sip from her cup and left following a dark-haired woman dancing to a music she can only hear in her head.


"Why are you afraid of Dru little one? She isn't going to hurt you," the voice was cold and temperate like steel. "Dru'll take you to your mummy now. Yes, she will." The vampire held out her hand to the little girl cowering in a corner of the alley.

The girl was shivering not just because of the cool air, but of fear, she had seen the monster attack her mother. She held on the edge of her once flower-y skirt, crying for her mother to get her.

"Awww. Poor child, isn't she Miss Edith? Yes, she is," Drusilla knelt before the girl and caressed her face with the cold dead fingers that had earlier strangled the air out of the girl's mother.

The child flinched at her touch. She grabbed the girl quickly and sank her fangs into the tender flesh of the girl's neck. it gave little fight, which was what she liked about children. She flooded the child's mind with images of her mother dancing with her. Drusilla reached beneath the little girls skirt and brushed her fingers over the young flesh. "Miss Edith liked mine."

After consuming the last flicker of life from the child she slowly let it fall to the ground. She held on to one hand and dragged the dead body a few feet before launching to a circular motion that was a dance. She held out her arms laughing at the receding light. Her night had begun.


They danced around each other the vampire to her soulless music and Willow to her anguish. They walked towards Central Park, both aware of each other. Except Willow did not know this.

She was aware of the change in the air as they progressed amongst the thinning crowd. She buried her hands deep in the pocket of her coat and sat in a bench, finally giving up the chase for the night. Willow knew more about Dru know than Buffy ever did. She had followed her for a month and lingered on the thought of driving a stake through her heart away.

Watching her bake slowly during sunset was the mode she preferred. She took out a cigarette and lit it.

"The pixies are telling me you miss her. Did you love her?" came the voice form around her. Willow stood up quickly looking around for the vampire. She found no one in sight.

"She's sleeping with Miss Edith you know. She's so good."

The voice came again and Willow realized it was coming from within her head. She sat down again on the bench and answered quietly. "You're going to burn bitch."

"I burned once, me and grandmother. I miss her. Don't you?"

She sucked on her cigarette furiously and kept still. Willow didn't want to talk to it. She tried hard to block the voice out but failed. "Father set us on fire, I burned. My flesh was cooking, I cooked smell it. Grandmother held me and we made love with our burned bodies."

Willow shivered and stood up ready to leave, she turned to the path where she had come from and found the figure blocking her path. Her mind raced and saw that she had made the fatal mistake that would kill her. She was all alone.

"Not so good? Miss Edith liked me when I was a good girl."

The watcher pulled out a stake and readied in a offensive stance. She charged with little thought and the stake was swiftly knocked off her hands. Willow found herself in the arms of Drusilla, strong despite their appearance of frailty. Her back to Dru, she felt the vampire's body against her.

"Don't scream Dru's gonna touch you," the vampire whispered to her ear as dead hands cupped her curves. Willow struggled and whimpered as the vampire reached down the front of her pant. "You're warm like soil."

Drusilla pushed her to the ground and walked before her as she crawled away. "Don't run. Your witch friend told me how much you liked to be touched."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Willow said harshly. Drusilla kneeled down in front of her.

"She says she won't mind." Drusilla held Willow's face between her hands and flooded the prey's mind with the face of a lover who had departed years ago.

"Tara?" Willow mumbled as the vampire slowly peeled her off her clothes. One by one they were removed form her till there was none that hid her form the cruel air.

The vampire kissed her forehead and then her lips. Willow reciprocated without much thought, her tongue sparred with another. She felt an odd chill during the exchange and an image of Drusilla formed briefly through the fog of Tara.

Drusilla cupped her victim's breast, kissing them alternately and fighting the urge to bite into them for blood. The nipples were stiff against her very fingers.

She slid down further and kissed the human navel. "I came from here once." Her hands grappled with warmth as Willow's fingers buried deep in her scalp.

Her tongue darted a new yet familiar path. She knew the place of a small hardness that would bring whatever happiness the human may feel and worked on it. Her cold fingers felt small warmth as she put it inside the throbbing orifice.

"Oooooh, Tara!" Willow moaned loudly, her body rose with a power only Tara could release. There was a difference though, she felt ice-cold in her secret places and there was a pain of something digging into the flesh of her crotch.

She let out one final scream before falling silently to the ground.


There was a vision of her being carried through the park and drinking from a cup that looked like a human arm. Then there was the feeling of being buried, worms crawling over her body, circling her nipple.

She saw that she was dead but yet alive.

But she didn't care. She forgot Tara and the Slayer. She lay quietly there knowing that there was someone waiting.

She had a scar and she knew she would live forever.